Kind Of An Accident
by alygdgrl
Summary: Harry didn't know how it happened. One minute he was home, the next he was pinned beneath Marcus Flint and his perfect, delicious body. They were kind of an accident, the best type of accident there could ever be. Marcus Flint/ Harry Potter. Slash!
1. Chapter 1

"So," Harry said swallowing thickly, watching Hermione eat after she finished nursing the baby, who laid asleep on a tiny bassinet next to her by the kitchen table, "someone saved my life today."

Hermione choked on a piece of chicken and gratefully took Ron's glass of water, "What? But you were just in the office today."

"What happened, mate?" Ron asked, nicking a piece of his wife's chicken while she was busy trying to get her wind pipes to work.

Harry shrugged, still confused about what had happened earlier that day. He opened his mouth and began telling them how midway through his laborious paperwork, he had gotten so bored that he was going in search of some coffee as an excuse to take a break. The day had been completely normal, complete with the screaming of pissed off witches and wizards apprehended by his fellow Aurors on the field. He had stepped out of his cubicle, past the closed door of his Head Officer's room, and out of the stagnant office. He had walked a meter, not really noticing where he was going when he heard a door slam a few feet in front of him. Harry had only a few seconds to glance up before a great rumbling sound began above them, great chunks of graphite raining down heavily, threatening to crush him. Before he knew what was happening, someone had brushed onto him, melding their bodies together, pushing him out of the falling roof against a wall and successfully shielding him from the falling debris. His heart had been beating inside his chest furiously, the only thing he could hear in the aftermath besides the hot breath against his ear from the man covering him. A few seconds passed by before either moved leaving plenty of time for Harry to become aware of the strength and tallness of the man above him, shadowing him completely in height and muscle mass. Finally, he was freed and surveyed with dark, penetrating eyes before being given a curt nod and being left alone. It did not occur to him until he had made it back into his cubicle a half hour later after conferring with other Ministry Officials about what had happened that he knew those eyes; they belonged to Marcus Flint, a more mature, taller, more fit Marcus Flint than the one he had met in school.

"Marcus Flint?" Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You're kidding."

"Nope," said Harry. "He pushed me against a wall and then left. It was weird."

"Those idiots renovating the offices have to be more careful. Did you know I stopped by yesterday to pick up some paperwork and I found them playing with their wands, never mind that there are so many spells within Ministry walls to make even-"

Ron interrupted his wife's annoyed rant in favor of moving his eyebrows up and down and saying, "Pushed you against a wall, did he?" in a lascivious tone.

"_Ron!_" the tips of Harry's ears had gone pink.

Hermione stopped talking and gave a small giggle, shrugging at Harry's accusatory look, "How did he look?"

"You guys are unbelievable," Harry avoided the question.

"That good, huh?" Hermione persisted.

Harry scoffed, "No, not that good, thank you very much. I didn't even get a good look at him. Mostly, I just felt him and- you guys!" Harry stopped talking when the other two laughed loudly. Ignoring them, Harry stood up and walked to the bassinet, picking up his niece and cooing at her as he walked away from Hermione and Ron into the living room.

"Is it bad that I don't feel guilty?" Ron asked Hermione, popping a piece of lettuce into his mouth, an attempt to support his wife while she tried to lose the last of the baby weight.

Hermione grinned, "Nope."

iIiIiI

"Hey, Potter," Lucas Hellings greeted him three days later, coming into the office for the first time all week, "I heard you almost got crushed on Monday."

Harry flushed slightly and tried to ignore the snickers coming from the Aurors around the room. "It's not my fault that the ceiling collapsed just as I walked out, you know," Harry called out to the room in general.

Fred, his sometimes partner, shook his head from a cubicle adjacent to his, "It's just bloody unbelievable that all of this shit happens only to you."

"It's not my fault," Harry muttered under his breath as everyone went back to work.

Lucas smiled and tucked some of Harry's hair behind his ear, "Just wanted to say I'm glad to see you weren't squished."

"Thanks," Harry said sarcastically.

"I mean it," Lucas grinned, bringing out a charming dimple on his tanned face, his baby blues glinting mischievously. "You look much better this way."

Harry was just about to respond when a loud crash was heard off the hall, followed by furious yelling and the unmistakable crack of a hex. Pushing off his chair, Harry hurried out of the office, following Fred to see what the commotion was all about. The door to Ludo Bagman's office was thrown wide open and through it they could see a large figure throwing a lamp at Ludo, looking livid. Normally, the Magical Sports workers were in the floor above them, but with the renovations they had been forced to move down with the Aurors offices for the time being. Rushing forward to help the overwhelmed man, Harry couldn't help but think that Ludo Bagman was lucky to be down here. Fred sent the first hex, but it went wide and rebounded off a piece of metal on the desk, obviously magicked for that purpose. It hit Fred and he went down on one knee to catch his breath. Harry bypassed him and ran into the room, throwing ropes around the individual attacking Ludo and threw himself at the man in order to stop him from doing more damage. They crashed into the floor and Harry straddled him, putting pressure with his thighs so that the man beneath him did not move. With scrunched brows, Harry was surprised to see Marcus Flint below him, even now trying to get at Ludo, screaming about how it was not over, whatever _it_ was.

Fred came into the room and helped Harry subdue Flint, finally taking him from Harry's hands when he quieted down. Harry checked on Ludo and found the spluttering man out of breath but otherwise unhurt. Harry set him upright and helped him to his feet. Though Ludo pointed an angry finger at Flint and began yelling how indeed it was not over but just the beginning, Harry noticed how Flint had gone deadly quiet, refusing to answer Fred's questions. Instead, his eyes were set forward obstinately as if he knew that he was going to be led away and was only looking to get it over with. Fred gave a frustrated sigh and pushed him forward; Harry was startled momentarily when those dark eyes focused on him before passing and being led downstairs to the Law Enforcement crew.

iIiIiI

"Thanks, Lucas," Harry sighed wearily midday a week later coming off a successful operation which had gone through the night. He took the offered coffee gratefully from the blond's hands and took a heavy swing, smiling as the hot liquid burned down his throat.

"Were you hurt?" Lucas asked, sitting on the edge of Harry's desk watching him carefully.

Harry shook his head, "No. Almost got my eyebrows singed off, but it all worked out in the end."

Lucas started laughing, "Good thing too-"

"What the-?" Harry turned his head to watch as the door to the office was slammed open.

Marcus Flint was marching in dressed in fine, crisp black robes, looking respectable and armed to the teeth with a set of serious looking lawyers holding heavy leather suitcases. It was easy to spot lawyers; they all had the same look about them that spoke of arrogance and which usually did nothing but make the Aurors' lives harder. Harry had no doubt what this was about. He was sure it had to do with Ludo, but since it had become a legal problem they had to go through the Head of Magical Law Enforcement before they could slap a lawsuit on Bagman's desk. Flint's eyes lingered on Harry as he passed and strayed momentarily to Lucas before passing him up disdainfully, moving without knocking into their Head's office.

Lucas raised his eyebrows and looked at Harry, "Well, he has a foul attitude if I ever saw one."

Harry cracked a smile and shook his head, "He does seem a little full of himself, doesn't he?"

"You think?" Lucas asked as everyone in the room concentrated on the lawyers' babble as they explained in no uncertain terms that their client was set on suing Bagman.

Harry shook his head, "What do you reckon Ludo did?"

Lucas shrugged, "Between you and me, I have no doubt it was something stupid."

When they finally made their way out once again, Harry was almost positive he was being stared at, but when he looked up, Marcus was staring forward. There was a glint of determination in his eyes that spoke of being close to getting what he wanted. It did something strange to his chiseled face, somehow made it more intense, and Harry had to admit to himself that Hermione was right. Marcus Flint really did look _that _good.

iIiIiI

On Sunday evening of the same week, Harry was smiling with satisfaction as he made his way to the Leaky Cauldron. He had spent a wonderful day with George, Angelina, Ron, and Hermione, baby Rose spending a few hours with Mrs. Weasley, and was ready to head home. He had a brown paper bag filled with some left over food from the wonderful restaurant where they had dinner and had decided to floo home because of it instead of Apparating. Food didn't usually make the journey when he Apparated and he had really enjoyed the pasta. Pushing the back door open, Harry smiled at Tom,

the inn keeper, and asked to use the fireplace. He threw a pinch of powder into the fire and stepped through, waving jovially at Tom, ready to speak the words to go home. At the same moment, however, a tall man came through and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, catching him unaware as they spun. Unable to look up, Harry could only smell the pleasant scent of expensive cologne against his nose.

When the spinning finally stopped, Harry pushed through his fireplace and stepped back, letting the food drop in favor of getting his wand. His breath was coming very fast and when he saw Marcus Flint standing in front of him, his stomach did an odd flip. They stood there a few tense moments, without doing anything, Marcus' dark eyes raking over Harry with an indescribable type of scrutiny. He certainly didn't look dangerous despite the fact that he towered over Harry. In the time that they had been waiting, Harry knew that he could have drawn his own wand if he was set on doing something dangerous. Instead, he had merely stared forward, leaving Harry more nervous and unnerved than he was threatened.

Blinking up uncertainly, Harry allowed his wand to drop by his side and said, "Umm, hi."

Before he knew what was happening, Flint had stepped forward and pressed him up against the wall, successfully knocking his wand away and sneaking his hand up Harry's thin t-shirt. Marcus crashed his lips roughly on to Harry's and thrust his tongue inside, giving out a guttural sound of satisfaction as if he had wanted to do that very badly. His knee found its way in between Harry's legs and rubbed upwards, making Harry gasp into the kiss. He had no clue what was going on, but suddenly his shirt was missing and Marcus was peeling off his pants and pushing down his boxers, grabbing on to Harry's erection and plunging down with his hand. With a low moan, Harry arched his head, giving Marcus room to latch on to his neck where he bit down, making Harry let out this tiny little sound that went straight down to Marcus' penis. Harry turned his head, searching for Flint's lips as the hand on his cock kept up its steady rhythm.

Marcus kissed his way to Harry's ear and muttered, "Room," huskily, pulling on Harry to take him there.

Without thinking, Harry grabbed his hand and led him past the kitchen to a spacious, comfortable room off the hall. He had not made his bed that morning, but the room was otherwise neat, for which he was vaguely thankful for. Marcus lowered Harry on to the bed and peeled off his shirt, revealing a _magnificent _chest that led down to a set of abs that made Harry flush. He pushed off his pants after kicking off his shoes and socks. With a deep blush, Harry realized Flint was not wearing any boxers. His eyes went a little round as he caught sight of Marcus' penis, and it was then that Harry decided Flint's best looking body part was always sadly covered. Somehow his hand found its way around the hard shaft and he marveled momentarily at its length and berth, his fingers barely touching as they made their way around; Marcus Flint was hung.

However, Harry was soon distracted as Marcus pushed himself on top of him, pushing Harry's legs wide apart as he attacked Harry's mouth and sank further down to bite down on a pert nipple. Harry was vaguely aware that he was making some embarrassing sounds that sounded awfully like mewling when Flint pressed the tip of his wand to his anus and set a shot of lubrication tingling inside of him. Flint worked his fingers into Harry, stretching him wonderfully and surprisingly without pain as they graced _that _spot that made Harry moan out wantonly. Flint's eyes were concentrated upon him, dark and heavy with lust, watching him as if Harry was the last and most important thing on the planet. Pushing forward, Flint wrapped Harry's legs around his waist and kept one of his hands on Harry's thigh using it as leverage as he pushed forward and inside of Harry.

It felt _wonderful_. Harry had never had sex without pain, but this, this was something amazing. Whatever nifty spell Flint had used, he was a genius, because though Harry could feel the berth and strength of the cock pushing inside of him, there was only the hint of pain which instead of making his erection drop made it stand on end with excitement. When Flint drove forward and slammed home, Harry gasped and moaned out loudly, sinking his nails into Marcus' back as he slid back and pushed forward again, hard. Harry had never had sex with anyone like this, because atop him, Marcus Flint looked like such a _man_. Everything about him was masculine, from the hard shaft driving over and over into Harry to the flat, muscled belly, up to his dark eyes hazy with lust. Without once touching his penis, Marcus drove Harry to climax, moving inside of him until Harry's erection came back once again. Another first for Harry, who was squirming beneath him in delirious pleasure. Finally, when it felt like it was all too much, when Marcus' cock was slamming against him giving him such an amazing feeling that he thought he would die, a hand wrapped around his penis and worked hard until Harry came with a hoarse cry. Above him, Flint worked himself into Harry, once, twice, and a third time before moaning a delicious moan that made the hair on Harry's arms stand on end and allowing his weight to drop carefully on top of him.

Harry had no idea how what just happened had come about, not least of all, because he could still feel Flint, his hot seed deep inside of him along with his penis. Pushing off with his forearms, Marcus spread Harry's legs open a little wider and looked into his eyes, watching as Harry moaned out one last time as he pulled out, slowly, as if to capitalize on the look on Harry's face. Without a word, Marcus kissed his neck and bit down so that Harry _knew _he had left a hickey and moved to Harry's mouth to kiss him thoroughly. Without thinking, Harry closed his eyes for a second and dropped off to sleep, exhausted and boneless with pleasure.

When Harry awoke at five a.m. the next morning, he was naked and alone. He gathered his sheets about him and turned on the lights, going into the living room to find the dropped bag of food next to the fireplace. Otherwise, everything was in its rightful place. He could tell even from a distance that the floo hadn't been used, because there was no sign of a fire having been lit. He bent down to pick up the bag and gave out a soft hiss, feeling for the first time discomfort from the earlier activities. Moving into the kitchen to drop the ruined food in the waste basket, all Harry could do was shake his head. He had no idea how it had happened. All he knew was that he had possibly just had the best sex of his life with a person he had not seen in years, someone that he knew absolutely nothing about. Scenes of a few hours ago kept replaying in his mind, and it was with deep confusion that he felt his erection reawaken. Regardless of what had happened, though, he had work in the morning, and so he returned to his bed. Flint had no doubt Apparated home, and Harry was probably never going to see him again. He settled further into his pillow, and it took him a moment to realize that it smelled like Flint, delicious. Sighing, Harry settled down trying to stop his mind from wandering to images of a dark male atop of him, driving over and over into him. He failed.

iIiIiI

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked the next day at lunch, looking at her best friend with worry. He looked as if he had not gotten enough sleep, and the fact that he had called her to see if she wanted to go to a restaurant with him while Ron was busy at the joke shop was strange. Usually, he would just bring take out and meet them both in Diagon Alley.

"Hey, you two," Ron greeted them, taking off his jacket and sitting down, giving his Hermione a soft kiss on the lips then extending his arms out for his daughter. "What is this about, then?"

Hermione shrugged and looked at Harry with concern, "Harry?"

"I slept with Flint," Harry let out before he could lose his nerve.

Ron grinned lewdly and burst out laughing, "You invited us to lunch so you could tell us about your sordid sex life?"

Hermione slapped his leg and looked at Harry, "How did- well, let me stop. First of all, do you want to talk about it?"

Harry scratched the back of his head, "I don't know if there's anything to talk about, actually. Yesterday after dinner, I went into the Leaky Cauldron and when I was about to floo home, he stepped inside the fireplace and went home with me. It was kind of an accident."

"And now you're freaked out," Ron said looking from his best friend to his smiling baby.

"Yes, that about sums it up," Harry nodded.

"Well, did he say anything?" Hermione asked him, taking a sip of her water.

Harry blushed and shook his head, "There wasn't much talking involved."

"Oh, that's the best kind," Ron earned another slap from Hermione.

Then, she paused as if gathering her courage to ask, "Well, _was _it the best kind?"

"_Hermione!_"

"Harry, give me a break," she said. "I deal with baby poop and throw up all day. I don't feel sexy, and I can't have sex for another two weeks. Come on, give me something here."

Harry burst out laughing, glad that he had invited his friends, even if they were crazy. Hermione had calmed down a lot since school, and being married to Ron had beaten into her a sense of humor. Thankfully, now that he had said it out loud, it became easier to bear. Sure, Harry still had no clue _why_, but at least he wasn't keeping it to himself any longer. At least he didn't feel as if he was going to burst anymore.

iIiIiI

"Then, she tried to hex bunny ears on me, but-" Lucas was cut off and Harry's attention was drawn to the closed door of their Head's office.

"What's all that about?" Harry asked, having just come in to drop off some of the magical apprehension tools that he and his partner Fred had used earlier that day. He was about to head out and had just stopped to listen to Lucas tell a funny story when they had been interrupted.

"Oh, that," Lucas said with a frown. "You know that guy that came in with the lawyers?" Harry paled. "Well, he's in there, giving Bottlehagen a tough time. He and the lawyers have been in there for a while, actually."

Apparently not anymore, however, because just at that moment, Bottlehagen, their boss, threw the door open and called out, "One of you, escort these _gentlemen_ out of my office."

No one lined up for the job, caught unaware, and sighing Harry stood up, "I'll do it, sir. I'm just heading out."

Flint walked out and looked at him momentarily before Lucas drew Harry's attention and said goodbye. He leaned in close and whispered that they should have dinner sometime and gently kissed the corner of Harry's mouth, hidden from the rest of their co-workers. They were facing Marcus, however, and he scowled deeply as he watched them, taking some satisfaction in Harry's startled look. Not willing to hurt Lucas' feelings, however, Harry smiled and moved away, waving goodbye to rest of the Aurors as they headed out.

"If you'll follow me, please," Harry told Marcus and his lawyers, his voice leaving no doubt that it was _not_ a suggestion.

When they were out in the hall, Marcus looked at them and muttered, "You can go," before slowing his steps to match Harry's.

"Umm, I'm taking the stairs then," Harry said, pulling up a door to leave. He was surprised to see Flint follow him inside. Marcus slid his thumb over Harry's lip and shook his head, as if he was trying to erase something there. It took Harry a second to realize that something was Lucas' kiss. Before he could get a word out, Flint was kissing him, sucking on Harry's tongue and wrapping his arms around the smaller man, Disapparting them with a small pop.

"Hey, where-" Harry was going to ask where they were, where he had been taken, but Marcus was obviously not up to talking. Instead, he slid his hands under Harry's shirt and pulled it over his head, doing something with his wand that got rid of the rest of Harry's clothes, making them appear folded by the foot of a very large bed. Harry flushed a deep crimson color when Marcus' eyes focused on his raging erection, taut and red with blood flow. Harry bit his lip and yanked on Flint's shirt making him grin with satisfaction, throwing it over his head. Marcus' hands wrapped around Harry's ass solidly, picking him off the ground to wrap his legs around Flint's waist. The taller man kicked off his shoes and walked them to the bed where he took off his pants and socks before grabbing his wand, making that same rush of lubrication run into Harry pleasantly. Apparently, Harry realized, Marcus really did not like to wear underwear.

Thick fingers intruded his opening and stretched him quickly before he was yanked forward and his legs were thrown around Marcus' waist. Without giving him a moment to breathe, Marcus plunged forward, slamming into Harry with a satisfied grunting moan in time with Harry's gasp. He slammed forward again and again, his hand massaging the tip of Harry's penis before going down and then back up quickly. Harry's back was arching of its own accord, angling so that Marcus got him just right every single time. However, mid moan, Flint stopped moving and though Harry tried desperately to move, Marcus prevented him from doing so with hands at his waist. Flint reversed their positions, and Harry suddenly found himself on top, held there by strong hands. His eyes were hazy with confusion and lust, and Harry bit his lip wondering why in the hell it was that Marcus wasn't fucking him.

Then, just when he was about to scream at Marcus to do something, Flint opened his mouth and said just one word, low and commanding, "Move."

That tone of voice did something crazy to him, and Harry could do nothing else but impale himself on Flint's thick, long cock over and over, wondering how he had ever thought sex with other people had been good compared to this. He was being driven slowly insane, the hand on his erection making him throw his head back and concentrate on driving himself down on Marcus. It was fabulous, perfection; it was _wonderful. _Harry felt Flint come inside of him with a deep groan, and he could do nothing but follow suit, sliding down on top of Flint's chest, trying to regain some semblance of control. Beneath his ear, Harry could hear Marcus' heart going very fast and he noted with tired surprise how much bigger than him Marcus was. Then, Harry felt Flint stirring inside of him and found himself on his back once again, being driven into slowly and shallowly, making him moan out in pleasure. Flint really knew what he was doing; his hands were roaming Harry's body, and one wrapped securely around Harry's penis, working it to get his erection back into place. It wasn't long before Harry came again under Flint's very careful ministrations and it was with the deepest satisfaction that he once again felt the hot pulsing of Flint's cum hitting his walls, deep inside.

iIiIiI

Sometime in the middle of the night, Harry woke up to the feeling of a deep burning in his bum. He was momentarily disoriented, unsure of where he was or who it was that he was currently using as a human pillow. He glanced around the large, expensively decorated room which was lighted dimly by the burning fireplace in the far wall. There were large, tall windows on the left and right walls covered by thick curtains, as well as a desk, a couch, and an armchair by the fireplace. There were two night tables by the bed and three doors, two on the right wall and one on the wall behind the bed. Harry assumed they led out of the room and into Marcus' bathroom and closet. Flint was sleeping peacefully beneath him, his long, dark lashes covering his dark eyes. Up close, it was very easy to see that this was a handsome man, a handsome man who made himself less so by the manner in which he carried himself, crudely and arrogantly. His body was a marvelous piece of work, and Harry could find no fat on that body, which was chiseled and heavily muscled, down to the details if his penis was anything to go by. Blushing, Harry squirmed and hissed louder than he intended when his bum dragged across the bed.

Marcus opened his eyes, unfocused and heavy with sleep. He looked at Harry and the first thing he did was drag him down for a long, slow kiss that left Harry flushed. When he pulled back, Flint kissed his way down to Harry's neck and surprised the younger man by asking, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said, distracted by a very talented tongue.

A tongue that flicked the lobe of his ear before hissing out, "Liar." Marcus ran a hand to Harry's ass as if to test a hypothesis, and he nodded with understanding when Harry winced. He grabbed his wand and kissed his way down Harry's chest, spreading his legs on the way down. He pushed them up and spread Harry's bum with his thumbs, going forward to soothe the blazing red spot with his tongue, making Harry give a low moan of relief. Marcus put the tip of his wand next to his mouth and muttered a spell that instantly began soothing the burning inside of Harry. He squirmed as fingers kneaded him and drove whatever Flint had put inside of him against the walls, making Harry bite his lip when one hit that spot that made any discomfort worth it. When Marcus began to pull his hand out as if to give Harry time to rest and recover, Harry shook his head, his cheeks flushed, and pulled the larger man on top of him, kissing him desperately and wrapping his legs around his waist.

Flint looked as if he knew better, but Harry didn't give him a chance to think, pulling him forward until the tip of his penis teased his opening. Harry looked at him and breathed out, "Please," before Marcus closed his eyes as that little word sent a shudder of pleasure through his body. Kissing Harry, he pushed forward and slid home, giving the Auror time to adjust. He was tighter around him, and Marcus knew that he was no doubt swollen from their earlier rounds. So, he kept his thrusts slow but deep, powerful, aiming to please every time. He pulled on Harry's dick and focused on making more of those wonderful noises slip out of the squirming man beneath him, until he finally came, prompting him, Flint, to shoot his seed deep into Harry, feeling as Harry's muscles clenched around him. Pulling out, Flint grinned at Harry's low moan and used his wand to clean him before sending another jet of soothing lubrication from his wand. He settled down on the bed, and it took Harry seconds to conform his body to the muscled man's before falling asleep.

iIiIiI

The next morning, the bed was still warm underneath Harry when he decided it was time to wake up. He had felt Marcus leave a little earlier, dressing quickly as if he had a meeting he was late for. Low voices could be heard from the next room, whose door had obviously been left open, and Harry had been drifting in and out of sleep since then. The door opened and Harry caught sight of impeccably dressed wizards walking by before Marcus closed the door, coming into the room with a deep sigh. Harry couldn't help but notice the dark circles around his eyes, no doubt helped along by their long night together. Harry sat up and smiled uncertainly, pulling the covers to cover his lower body.

Noticing the tight hold Harry kept on the sheets, Flint laughed, "Don't you think it's a little late for that?"

Harry blushed and refused to answer, asking instead, "Where am I, exactly?"

"North Ireland," said Flint shrugging off the coat of his suit.

"We're not in England anymore?" Harry asked, a little shocked.

Marcus pulled at his tie, loosening the knot and moved closer to the bed, stealing a kiss from Harry before stepping back to unbutton his dark shirt, "No."

"Fli-er- Mar, umm, what do _they _call you?" Harry asked, inclining his head to the door in the direction of the retreating wizards.

Marcus looked at him with an unreadable look before saying, "Boss," and walking into the door on the wall by the bed.

Harry could hear the shower heads go off through the open door and, pulling the sheets around himself, he walked and leaned against the door. He watched with focused eyes as Marcus peeled off his clothes, revealing long, smooth muscles. As he walked towards him, Harry had to bite his lip to suppress a groan. Instead, he asked, "What am _I_ supposed to call you then?"

Marcus tugged on the sheets and made them drop; he ran his hand from the curve of Harry's neck down to his belly and to his hand, where he linked their fingers, pulling Harry forward with him into the shower. The water was warm as it rained down upon them, and Harry smiled lightly when Flint pushed him gently against the wall, licking it away from his neck up to his lips, where he dipped forward for a long, smooth kiss. He nipped his way to Harry's ear and grabbing on to Harry's erection, he said, "You can call me whatever you want."

Harry groaned as the large hand worked him, pumping up and down. He allowed his head to drop of Marcus' chest and bit down there with pleasure before giving out a long, loud moan when he came all over Flint's hand. He looked up at him through his lashes and smiled, saying, "Marcus will do fine."

Laughing, Marcus bent down and kissed him, pressing forward enough for Harry to feel his own erection pressing against his waist. Pulling back, Harry went to his knees and licked the head, feeling satisfaction pool in his belly when Marcus' hands laced through his hair. It was strange, but there wasn't much that Harry did not like to do with this man. Even his taste was appealing, and as he licked his way up the shaft, Harry couldn't help but wonder what the hell it was that they were doing, even if it was bloody fucking amazing. Flint came into Harry's mouth and Harry swallowed languidly, licking him clean before going up for a long kiss.

Later, clean and fresh, they dressed together. Harry had to wait a little long under Marcus' scrutiny while a House Elf brought his freshly laundered clothes from the night before and dressed quickly when he had them in his hands. Marcus was wearing a black, finely tailored suit that made his shoulders look kind of amazing, narrowing down on his slim hips. Harry had been right; he did have an aversion to underwear. He sat on the bed and pulled Harry between his legs, tugging Harry's shirt down over the smooth line of his belly but not before kissing him just beneath his bellybutton, leaving a tiny little mark there. His broad hands wrapped aroud Harry's waist and he looked up, saying, "Don't let that man touch you again."

"What man?" Harry asked confused.

"The blond that kissed you. Don't let him touch you again."

Harry didn't like that tone, a tone that was spoken as if Harry had no choice. Crinkling his brows, Harry tried to push off but was stopped. He let out an angry breath and glared down at Flint, "I can bloody do whatever the hell I please, thanks."

Marcus scowled at him, but Harry didn't back down. After some very long moments, Marcus caught Harry off guard and sank his head into Harry's belly, grunting a muttered, "Please," into the air.

Harry looked down with surprise and blinked, not knowing what to say. Then, Marcus kissed him and all he could do was nod, even if he had no idea why, considering he didn't know the man. The sex was incredible. Maybe, Harry decided, so much pleasure was driving him insane.

iIiIiI

Hey, everyone! I'm hell of excited about this one. This is going to be a relatively short one, but I really wanted to do this pairing. I find it very intriguing. Please let me know what you think? Was it hot, boring, unoriginal? Let me know. I really appreciate it! Please, please, please REVIEW! Let's see if I can get at least 20 reviews before next update.

Aly!


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter sat staring breathlessly at the clock, willing time to move faster with a set glare. He had received an owl earlier from Marcus and had been on edge ever since. He was stuck doing a bin full of paperwork again and had greeted the unknown eagle owl with surprised acceptance. It wasn't until he saw the pompous crest along the heading that he had recognized from whom it had come. He actually gave himself a paper cut in his hurry to open the damn envelope. Yet, when he finally got it open there was only a simple message written there in untidy script letting him know Marcus was going to pick him up after work. How the man knew when Harry was working or when he got off, Harry had no idea, and he was vaguely glad that he didn't. In a way, it was as flattering as it was disconcerting. When he remembered the last time he had seen Marcus, however, the idea that he was aware of Harry made his stomach do a strong flip.

He had not seen Flint for two weeks after he had been dropped off at his apartment with a long, hard kiss. They hadn't spoken since then, and Harry still could not believe that he had been kidnapped to northern Ireland to have the most amazing sexual experience of his life. He had been unable to work since the owl had left, flashes of a naked Marcus making him close his eyes in an effort to will an inconvenient erection away. He was aware that people were looking at him strangely, though he saw no reason why. It was actually beginning to irk him when someone picked up Marcus' letter, propped in front of Harry, and held annoyingly above Harry's reach.

Harry frowned and ground out, "Give it back," at a grinning Lucas who had snuck up on him when he was fantasizing about a rather large part of Flint's anatomy. He wasn't finished looking at the letter, though he had been staring at it for the past half hour.

"So, is this the reason why you have been smiling so much lately?" Lucas asked, raising his eyebrows at the expensive parchment beneath his fingers.

Harry swiped at the letter but missed, "That's none of your business."

"Oh, now, I think it is," Lucas joked reading the words on the note out loud, making the tips of Harry's ears go scarlet. "Signed, M. Who's M, Harry?"

"Like I said," Harry pulled the paper out of the blond's hand sharply, "that's none of your business."

"Are you ashamed to tell us who it is? Embarrassed?" Lucas teased, though there was a slight edge of his voice.

Harry's face hardened, "I am not embarrassed of the people I choose to be with, Lucas. I would be embarrassed, however, to invade my friend's privacy when he is obviously asking you to butt out."

Walking into the room, Fred raised his eyebrows at Harry's tone and interrupted the conversation rather hesitantly, "Harry, there's someone here for you."

"Huh?" Harry turned his head towards the door, and his breath hitched slightly when he saw Marcus' dark, tall form waiting for him like a specter. Grinning, he looked at the clock and saw he was free to go. "Bye, then."

When Harry reached Marcus, he found him glaring daggers at Lucas, and he felt his cheeks flush with color when those dark eyes settled on him with an intensity that made the ends of his fingers tingle. Marcus had not said a word, but there was something about the way he was holding himself, as if his body was tightly coiled, that reminded Harry of snake looking for a reason to strike. It appeared like he _really _did not care for the blond Auror who even now was trying to catch Harry's eye. He looked surprised, and his eyes kept darting to Marcus, staring back defiantly as if he didn't care that Flint looked like he could snap him like a piece of chalk. It was awkward to say the least, and Harry finally put an end to it by laying his palm against Marcus' taut stomach. The muscles beneath his hand clenched at the contact, and Harry grinned when a strong arm wrapped around his waist and led him out of the room, leaving behind a trail of whispers.

The walk down the empty corridor was quiet. Marcus pushed the stair door open and led Harry through, backing him up until the shorter man was plastered against the wall. Harry stared wide eyed up at him curiously, feeling the burn of Marcus' eyes as they raked down his body. A long, calloused hand pushed up into his shirt, going back until it settled comfortably on his ass. The look on Flint's face was all smoke and embers, predatory, as if he was staring at something that _belonged _to him. Apparently, Harry could feel, he was happy about it too. At long last, he lowered his head and Harry pushed on his toes to get a kiss he didn't know he had been anxiously waiting for. It was with some surprise that Harry realized his fingers were shaking slightly as they clung to the front of Marcus' robes, leaving them wrinkled when they clenched as Marcus bit his lower lip. The kiss was sensual and long, sexy like the man who was bestowing it. It also grew somehow, became more, as Marcus thrust his tongue deep into Harry's mouth and rubbed a thumb over Harry's pert nipple.

When it finally ended, Harry pulled back flush faced and hazy eyed, "Hi."

"Hi," Marcus responded staring avidly at Harry as if he was trying to memorize his features, or as if he was reading something there that no one else could see. Without hesitancy, he picked Harry up, making the shorter man's legs wrap around his waist, and Apparated them just outside of Harry's apartment.

It was like Harry was a doll, because though he could feel the hardness of Marcus' muscles as they supported his weight, Flint's body was held with a sort of arrogant ease that made Harry's blood pool directly down south. "Would you like to go inside?" he asked even as Marcus made tiny little bite marks down his neck.

Instead of answering, Marcus plundered Harry's mouth and turned their positions so that Harry could wave his wand at his door and let them in. Though perhaps not the most spacious apartment in London, Harry's flat looked much smaller with Marcus in it. Flint was a man that filled the room, Harry realized; he was also not a man of patience. He set Harry on his feet and his hands busied themselves making short work of Harry's shirt, going lower to unbutton Harry's pants. As much as he was looking forward to where this was going, however, Harry stopped him with a low groan. "We can't," Harry breathed out.

Linking their fingers together, Marcus scowled and demanded, "Why not?"

Doing his best to focus as fingers wrapped around him, Harry licked his lips and said, "I-I can't spend the day with- with- Marcus, stop. I can't focus."

"That's the point," Flint responded with a smirk, dipping his head to crash their lips together.

With great difficulty, Harry stepped out of Marcus' reach and tried to get a grip on himself, attempting all the while to ignore the fact that he was half naked, "Hermione and Ron are having some friends and family over for dinner in an hour. I said I would go, you see. I can't back out on them."

"In an hour?" Marcus asked, advancing on Harry.

"Yes, but I have to bathe and- _oouh_," Harry moaned when Marcus latched on to his nipple before grabbing on to the waistband of his pants and dragging them off.

Harry felt himself being pressed forward on to his couch, bent over as Marcus kissed his way from the tip of Harry's neck down his spine. He felt a rush of lubrication and the demanding entrance of two fingers that worked him open, brushing that delicious spot that made him pant. Then, there was the heat of human flesh behind him. His legs were pushed wide apart, and he craned his neck to see Marcus aligning his cock to his opening. It was ludicrously erotic, seeing a powerful man behind him ready to invade him, and he moaned in pure ecstasy when he felt Marcus push himself forward to the hilt. After two weeks of not seeing him, even Harry's best fantasies of Marcus paled in comparison to the real thing. His cock was huge, and wonderful, and fucking perfect. At this angle, with Harry's ass in the air below him, Marcus reached Harry's prostate with ease, sending black dots swimming in front of Harry's eyes in a ricochet of pleasure. Marcus pushed forward and kissed Harry below the ear, making an amazing gasping sound that made Harry moan out, holding on to the pillows beneath him for some sort of leverage.

Marcus' hand came around his waist and settled comfortably around him, going in time with each thrust. Harry could feel the slap of flesh against his ass as Marcus plunged forward again and again; it was one of the most erotic sounds he had ever heard and he could do nothing else but close his eyes, savoring the amazing feeling of what was happening. He pushed his hips back, attempting to match Marcus in rhythm, and his enthusiasm made Flint groan above him. The tall man placed his hand on top of Harry's and slipped his fingers in between Harry's own, clutching it as he drove them to climax. Harry bit his bottom lip so hard he could feel it swelling, but the small discomfort there was nothing compared to the pleasure he was being afforded. Marcus came and as Harry followed suit, it was with heady surprise that he found the idea of Marcus coming inside of him conducive to his own orgasm. Flint encircled Harry, moving so he could rest his hands on either side of him atop the couch, his forearms working hard to support his weight as he lazily kissed his way down Harry's back.

Laughing through a groan, Marcus tipped Harry forward enough to slip out, making Harry lose his balance and slide over the couch's back. Following suit, he vaulted forward and settled himself on the couch, pulling Harry on top of him once he had gotten comfortable. Harry's friends had always made fun of him for his obscenely large couch, but he couldn't help but grin as he looked at Marcus. If they could see them now, they would no doubt be shocked to see the large, comfy space being fully occupied by a 6'4 man with the barest of pink color grazing the apples of his cheeks. Harry stared at him, tracing with his eyes the graceful sometimes harsh angles of the face below him. Marcus' lips were red and puffy from kissing, but he looked satiated and more calm than Harry had ever seen him. Then again, he barely knew the guy, so what did he know. Marcus' fingers were tracing a lazy pattern down the small of Harry's back, playing with some of the sperm that had spilled out of Harry when Marcus had pulled out. His other hand rested comfortably around Harry's waist, holding him close.

"I have to take a shower," Harry said, trying to push off Flint's chest.

"No," Marcus responded, pulling him back down.

Harry shook his head and let out a huffy breath, "Marcus, I smell."

"You smell like me," he answered with a grin.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Very funny. Let me up; I can't show up smelling like sex to a family event."

Running his nose down the curve of Harry's neck, Marcus said, "_I _like the way you smell."

And really, Harry could already tell that it was a lost battle, because without his wand, there was no way in hell that he was going to be able to get out of Marcus' grip. So, he settled himself down with a sigh and asked, "Have you had a good couple of weeks?"

"Did you miss me?" Marcus asked instead, focusing on Harry's eyes then roving down to his lips.

Harry crinkled his brows, suddenly understanding, "You stayed away so I would miss you?"

Marcus' thumb outlined his lips and drew him in for a kiss, "I never said that."

"That is so sodding slimy and cunning of you," Harry said, but there was no real heat in his voice. He was too busy watching the way Marcus' muscles rippled when he moved.

"So you did miss me."

"_I_ never said _that_," Harry grinned, but Marcus went very still.

Then, in the silence, barely more than a whisper, "I missed you."

iIiIiI

"Hi, Harry! Oh, hello, Marcus," Hermione greeted them with surprise as a large figure followed Harry through the fireplace.

"Holy shit," Ron breathed out, catching sight of Marcus Flint. Then looking sheepish under Harry's glare, he flushed and said, "I mean, hello. Welcome to our home."

Ron and Hermione's tidy brick home had been invaded by sea of redheads, from Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley down to Ginny, their youngest. Bill had managed to make it along with his wife and children and could be seen talking with Shacklebolt in the corner of the room, his little girl in his arms. Fleur was speaking animatedly about something with one of Hermione's coworkers and seemed completely unaware of how overwhelmed the small witch looked. A large table had been set up with food, ready for all of them to sit down. With a small frown, Harry thought that they had all most likely been waiting for him to arrive before beginning to eat. As it was, they had made it here as quickly as possible. Marcus had delayed him on the couch for a few minutes, but Harry had eventually convinced him that he had to get dressed. Then, in a moment of lunacy, he had blurted out that he didn't mind if Marcus accompanied him, if Marcus wanted to, of course. After some very long moments of inscrutable staring, Marcus had finally nodded and dressed himself, running his wand over his clothes to leave them lying perfectly against his body.

"Look, Molly, Harry has a friend," Mr. Weasley told his wife loudly, drawing everyone's attention to Marcus, who was standing tall and tense beside Harry.

Trying to hide his embarrassment, Harry hooked his index finger with Marcus' and stepped further into the room with a smile, "Hi, everyone. This is Marcus, Marcus Flint."

Molly looked momentarily ruffled, recognizing the last name, but schooled her features and offered and uncertain smile, "Hello, there."

Mr. Weasley laid his hand on his wife's shoulder and looked at Harry with merry eyes, "So, is this your boyfriend, then?"

Unsure of what to say, Harry opened his mouth to give a vague answer when Marcus stepped closer to him and said, "Yes, I am. Nice to meet you all."

Ginny, who was holding Dean's hand, shared a mischievous look with George and giggled, "Nice to meet you too, Marcus. Now, if the family is done gawking, can we eat please? I'm starving."

The room bustled into action, drawing chairs out and sitting down, but Marcus kept Harry put for a moment, whispering against his ear, "Hmm. I don't feel that hungry right now after what we just did. Maybe later?"

Harry blushed and bit his lip, ignoring Marcus in favor of picking up baby Rose, "What are we having?"

To say that Marcus Flint had poor people skills was not doing him enough credit. It was more like he refused to use them. Harry had seen a hint of a softer side of Flint, but whatever that might have been was deeply hidden behind impassive eyes that raked over the room with detached curiosity. Mostly, they were concentrated on Harry, watching carefully how he interacted with everyone there. Once or twice, Marcus' hand trailed from its place on Harry's thigh upwards, making Harry blush at odd times. As the evening wore on, everyone made pleasant conversation, doing their best to include Marcus, though he was doing nothing to make it easier on them. He reacted to Ron and Hermione better than the others, picking up on Harry's close relationship with them, but even then he did not go out of his way to engage them in conversation. Mostly he watched Harry, watched him talking and laughing, watched him watch others, and settled his fingers at the nape of Harry's neck, twirling a piece of stubborn hair there that was surprisingly soft.

Later that night, when they were seated in the living room drinking tea, Harry was comfortably plastered against Marcus' side. He was holding Rose, smiling as she blinked up at him owlishly, swiping up with her tiny fist. When no one but Harry was looking, Marcus slipped a careful finger into the baby's hand, watching her closely with an unreadable look in his eyes. From then on, Harry took his turn at watching Marcus, watched the upright carriage of his posture, the elegant curve of his neck, and the way his eyes kept coming back to Harry, though his finger remained clasped tightly in the baby's hand.

iIiIiI

When they stepped through Harry's fireplace around ten at night, Harry was surprised when Marcus hooked a gentle hand around his neck and brought him up on tippy toes for a long kiss. It was a kiss that was all promise, a promise that Harry knew Marcus was more than able to keep. Marcus took him to bed then, slowly and without question, as if he had memorized the way there. He carried Harry on to the bed and undressed him with easy patience, watching closely as each piece of discarded material revealed long lines of smooth, tan skin. He took special care in ridding Harry of his glasses, running a finger over Harry's cheek as he kissed him languidly, sliding his hand down to Harry's hip bone. He kissed the trail led by his had, licking the defined line down the center of Harry's abs. When his lips reached their destination, Marcus bit down on Harry's hip, drawing a soft hiss from Harry as he left a dark mark there that was obviously meant for Harry to see once Marcus was gone.

For the first time, he allowed Harry to unclothe him. He watched with careful precision the way in which Harry's eyes trailed to his chest and down his abs, over which he ran fingers that looked small and delicate. Harry bit his bottom lip as he popped the button on Marcus' pants, leaving it bruised in such a way that Marcus had to soothe it with his tongue, bringing Harry down for a kiss. He was laying on his back, Harry between his legs, allowing the Auror plenty of time to run his fingers over the contours of his muscles. He noticed how Harry's eyes continued to return to the curve of his neck, tracing it with his index finger before attaching his mouth there, leaving his own mark on Flint's body. Harry was driving him slowly insane; his gentle touches made the hair on Marcus' arms stand on end, and his dick jump in anticipation. The way Harry's eyes were drinking him in, as if watching him was pleasurable in its own right, finally made him snap, moving to cover Harry's body with his own.

Marcus prepared him, making Harry squirm underneath him looking rosy cheeked and very ready. He perhaps teased him for longer than necessary, basking in the tiny little moans that he coaxed from Harry's throat. Yet, even he had enough and gently parted Harry's legs, settling into him with one sharp thrust. It was strange, but Harry fit into him a certain way, like he had made to be there and the way in which he looked at Marcus made him want to keep the Auror there, preferably writhing just _so_.

Harry opened his mouth, moaning a little before asking something that had just popped into his head, though it took him a bit to finally get it out, "So, you're my boyfriend?"

Marcus thrusted into him, tearing a loud moan, and laughed, "Yes." He positively basked in Harry's sweaty pleasure under a constant song of moans. Finally, he crashed into Harry, spent, feeling with a smirk the hotness on his lower stomach as it was bathed in Harry's cum. His own was buried deep inside the Auror from whom he took care in leaving. He brought his wand and soothed Harry's tired backside before moving up and cradling the tired man in his arms.

They laid comfortably for a few moments until Harry looked up and said, "Oh- umm, why?" but Marcus distracted him with a set of of long kisses that tingled all the way down his back.

iIiIiI

The next morning, Harry woke up surprisingly warm and comfortable, and he nestled down into the body beneath him rather than getting up. It was his day off and he was very thankful. Though he was in no pain thanks to Marcus, he felt boneless, tired from the night before. The large man's quiet breath was tickling the tip of his ear and it made Harry grin to know that he was a quiet sleeper. His face was softened in rest, the hard edges of his mouth slackened enough to make his face look overall younger, less tense than when he was awake. His shoulders were also relaxed, no longer tightly coiled. Yet, even in sleep the muscles of his belly were rock hard, along with his arms, and his chest, and his...umm, best not to think about what else was hard at the moment.

"What are you looking at?" Marcus asked though his eyes were closed, his arm tightening around Harry's waist.

Harry blushed at being caught and burrowed further down to hide his face in case Marcus decided he was ready to be awake, "Nothing."

"Really, because I think you were staring at this," Marcus grabbed Harry's hand and ran the palm over his belly, settling it down on the spot Harry was doing his best not to think about. That was a giant failure.

When he looked up, Marcus had one eye cracked open gazing down at him with a lazy smirk on his face, "Well, it is rather nice."

"Rather?" Marcus looked amused. "Harry, this is as good as it gets."

It was the first time Marcus had referred to him by his first name, and hearing 'Harry' spoken from his lips made his stomach do an odd roll, "Alright. It's rather spectacular."

"That's more like it," Marcus said, pulling him up for a good morning kiss, regardless of the fact both had yet to brush their teeth.

His lips were soft and pouty from sleep, smooth as they slid to lay a peck on Harry's neck. Harry threw his leg over Marcus' waist and wrapped his arms around his neck, initiating contact for the first time. He figured it was about time, "So, what are your plans for today?"

Marcus shrugged, "Don't really have any."

"Oh," Harry said. Then, "Today's my day off."

"I know," Marcus grinned.

"Oh."

"Again?" Marcus ran his fingers smoothly through Harry's hair. "What are your plans for today?"

"Get greasy Chinese takeout, maybe watch a movie," Harry answered.

"Well," said Marcus, "I love Chinese food."

Harry smiled, "And the movie?"

"I don't know what that is," Marcus confessed into Harry's ear, nipping the lobe gently with his teeth.

Maybe it wasn't right, but Harry took great pleasure in debasing Marcus' Pureblood mentality, stating, "It's a Muggle thing," before letting the sheets drop. Marcus was too busy doing other things to disagree to seeing it. Later, when they were showering together, Harry could do nothing else but congratulate himself on his astuteness. When he was nestled in the crook of Marcus' arm, more concentrated on watching Marcus' face paying rapt attention to the film, he wondered how it was that a virtual stranger made him feel so oddly, almost as if he was totally at ease.

iIiIiI

"Lucas, please lay off. I'm fine, alright?" Harry bit out, red faced with exhaustion on a St. Mungo's bed. He was freshly off an operation, one which had gone much differently than what they had planned. Somehow wizard smugglers had been tipped off on the attack and had been waiting ready. They had enchanted pieces of clothing to look like some of the foreign witches and children they sneaked into the country illegally, usually paid with illegal contraband, and had cursed them. As soon as an Auror touched what he thought was a child's shoulder, spells were fired at them from the clothing itself. Harry was caught unaware and was hit several time in the chest and abdomen. He had been taken to St. Mungo's as soon as possible and most of the damage had been reversed. However, there was still a strong stinging sensation that would not abate, no matter what potions he was given by the Healers. He was having a hard time catching his breath, and it was not helping him that Lucas was fluttering about him trying to make him feel better.

"Are you sure I can't get you anything? A glass of water, perhaps?" Lucas insisted watching him carefully.

Harry sighed, "Perhaps a bit of space."

"Harry-"

"You heard him," Lucas was cut off by the tall figure at the door. Marcus was scowling at him, his eyes crinkled in distaste.

Lucas tried to regain his composure, "I was just-"

"I don't care what you thought you were doing. He said he wanted space; if I were you, I would start walking," Marcus said, something in his tone making it clear that it was more of an order than anything.

"You are no one to order me about," Lucas glowered back, stepping towards Harry.

At the same time, Marcus began advancing threateningly and it was only Harry's hand on Lucas' arm that halted his movement, "Lucas, would you mind going out in the hall? I'm fine. If you want you can go back to the office and let them all know. Hermione and Ron will show up soon, and you know how they are."

Lucas looked at him for a long minute but then nodded reluctantly. He swept past Marcus, making sure to knock by him on the way out. Marcus barely moved an inch.

"Why would he know how Hermione and Ron are?" Marcus demanded from a distance.

Harry busied himself trying to loosen the bandages around his midriff slightly, in need of more air, and shrugged, "He knows them."

"Why?"

"He went with me to one of their dinners. It's no big deal," Harry said, looking up. Apparently this had not been the right thing to say.

Marcus' face was set in a rigid scowl, his hands clenched by his sides, "Why did you take him with you?"

Something about his tone got a rise out of Harry who was already feeling uncomfortable, "Because I needed a guest, and he was willing to go with me."

"I just bet he was," Marcus answered angrily.

"I have other people in my life beside you," Harry snapped. "Damn it, why won't this come off?"

"You're with _me_ now," Marcus insisted.

"I know!" Harry said flush faced. "I know I'm with you. Now will you please help me loosen these damn things up? I can't breathe."

Marcus stepped forward and began pulling the bandages apart carefully. Harry noticed that the area around his eyes was very strained and realized that Marcus was acting this way out of more than being jealous; he was _worried_. It was all there, in the careful way his hands made sure not to brush Harry's tender upper body, in the tenseness of his shoulders. His eyes were focused on Harry's face, seeking out any sign of discomfort. When he could finally breathe again, Harry paused Marcus' hands from peeling off the bandages, and he gave the taller man a small smile, "I'm sorry I snapped."

"He still has no right to be in here if you tell him to leave."

"I know," Harry said, smoothing out the harsh lines of Marcus' eyebrows with his thumb.

"And you had no reason to get angry with me for getting him to leave if that's what you wanted," Marcus continued, refusing to give in to Harry's touch.

"I know," Harry said, bringing him down for a kiss. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I worried you."

Marcus' large hands wrapped carefully around his waist, and he let out a long breath, "I just happened to be at the Ministry when I heard that you-"

"Oh, Marcus," Harry said, hating that he had found out that way. "I'm fine."

"Yes," Marcus nodded, running his hands to rest on Harry's thighs, "Yes you are."

iIiIiI

"Well, it all looks about right," Mediwizard Wellkins told Harry the next day. He smiled at Harry and lowered his voice, his eyes straying to Marcus for an unconscious second, "I would suggest you abstain from vigorous activities."

Harry grinned and looked meaningfully at Marcus over the Healer's shoulder, "I'll do my best."

Marcus did not look abashed. In fact, he looked nothing short of arrogantly satisfied with himself, "Can we leave now?"

The Healer looked from Marcus to Harry and nodded, "Just as long as you take a week off from work, Mr. Potter, and you should be back to tip top shape in no time. Lots of bed rest."

Marcus nodded, and helped Harry to his feet, leading him down the hall so that they could floo into Harry's flat. Apparating was too uncomfortable for Harry in the state that he was. Hermione had volunteered to take him home, but Marcus had let her know in no uncertain terms that he was the one that would be responsible for seeing Harry safely into his room. This, much rather than intimidating Hermione, had amused her and Harry had not heard the last of it yet. His ears went pink every time she brought it up, and he had only been able to shut her up by pretending that he was far too tired to keep company. His argument was completely ruined when Marcus had shown up, freshly showered and dressed from his home. When Hermione had left, Marcus had stayed by Harry's bedside, watching him intently until he fell asleep.

Thankfully, Harry was no able to lie down in his own bed, which was much more comfortable than the standard singles in St. Mungo's. Marcus was looking at him carefully and asked, "Would you like anything?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks," he scooted over with a slight wince and patted the room beside him. "Come here."

Marcus shrugged off his outer robes and kicked off his shoes, wrinkling his expensive suit as he laid on Harry's bed, "You should sleep."

"But I'm not tired," Harry insisted, resting his head on Marcus' chest. "Would you like to wear a pair of my sweat pants. I always get them too big, so they will probably fit you. I don't want you getting your suit ruined."

Marcus contemplated his proposition and finally nodded, going to a set of drawers to retrieve the pants. As he walked back to the bed, he took off his button up shirt and left himself with a bare chest, the sweat pants slung low on his hips with nothing underneath. When he crawled into the covers, Harry was very interested in running his hands up and down Marcus' chest, down past the waist band of the pants, "The doctor said no vigorous activities."

Harry looked up at Marcus and smiled innocently, "I'm not very good at following orders."

Marcus tried to stop him, but finally caved in when it was apparent Harry had no plan to quit. He took Harry's clothes off very carefully, using his wand to rip the shirt so that he didn't have to throw it over Harry's head and risk hurting him. They were both naked beneath the warm covers, and Marcus took his time kissing Harry, enjoying the feel of a cherry red tongue against his own. He took the time to kiss Harry _everywhere_, slowly and leisurely. He dipped his tongue into the crevice of Harry's bellybutton and kept moving lower until he took Harry's tip into his mouth, grinning when Harry dug his nails into his scalp. He took time in preparing Harry, careful not to jostle him. When he finally entered him, it went on forever. He was not willing to go faster and risk injuring Harry, no matter how much Harry urged him to _move._ It was interesting to see the Auror like this, as if the pace was so slow that he could feel everything and it was excruciatingly wonderful. It made Marcus continue his slow trek, taking Harry into his hand at long last, until they both came, glistening with sweat as they pulled apart.

Harry laid on top of Marcus and kissed the tip of his nose then his lips, "You're very caring, Marcus."

Marcus groaned, though he pulled Harry closer, "Don't say that. You will ruin my reputation."

When Harry's laugh burst about them, he grinned and threw an arm over his eyes. It was the first sign of shyness Harry had ever seen from the masculine man, and it was somehow oddly endearing.

iIiIiI

Hello all! I hope this one lived up to your expectations. Please REVIEW and let me know what you think! Even if it's just a couple of words, I really appreciate knowing what you think. Your input is incredibly helpful and it helps one grow as a writer. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Aly


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Harry woke to the smell of cooking and found a very overwhelmed looking Marcus in front of his stove. A large grin cracked his face, and he had difficulty in restraining his laughter. The sight of a 6'4 naked man attempting to make eggs, however, proved to be a little too much for his sense of humor, and a small chuckle escaped him, making Marcus turn to him with a glare. Surprisingly, the tips of the man's ears had gone pink and the apples of his cheeks were tainted red. It was so at odds with the image Harry had of him that he took pity on the poor guy and stepped forward, taking the spatula from Flint's hand and finishing the meal. While he worked, Marcus sat on the island looking on sourly, as if things had _not _gone the way he had planned. It was weirdly endearing.

He took a little longer to slip some grated cheese in the eggs and finished off their breakfast with tall glasses of orange juice. Harry walked over to his small dining room table and set the plates down, inviting Marcus to join him with a soft smile. He went back into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of ketchup, dragging a reluctant Flint with him who had remained put in his seat. Honestly, Harry spent most of the time staring at Marcus' defined chest rather than eating; he was positive Flint knew what he was doing to him, because there was a sort of confident ease about him as he ate, the tips of his mouth elevated just slightly as he felt Harry's eyes over him. The man really had no decency and looked comfortable in his nakedness, as if this was the way he was supposed to be. If Harry looked like him, he would no doubt feel the same way. However, he got the privilege of looking at him instead, which really, Harry thought, was the much better deal. It was a wonderful sight. He knew that he was acting like a fourteen-year-old with a crush, but it was very difficult to think sensibly with someone so handsome in front of him. Marcus' masculinity was intoxicating, and watching him was like drinking liquored chocolate; it was positively sinful.

"So," Harry cleared his throat, "did you sleep well?"

Marcus nodded, taking a sip of his juice, and asked, "How are you feeling?"

Harry shrugged, "Alright, I guess. I have had much worse to be bothered with a little scratch like this."

The area around Marcus' eyes tensed, but his voice was calm when he spoke, "Do you get hurt often?"

"Often enough," Harry said while submerging his food in a sea of ketchup.

Marcus raised his eyebrows in amusement, "You like ketchup, then?"

Harry smiled, closing his eyes with happiness when he took a bite, "It's my _favorite._"

"And here _I_ was thinking that something else was your favorite, something more _meaty_," Marcus narrowed his eyes with humor, running his thumb over Harry's bottom lip to wipe away some stray ketchup.

Harry knew it was ridiculous considering everything they had done, but he blushed. He coughed awkwardly and took a moment to take a long pull from his juice while Marcus gave a deep, throaty laugh. He gathered his wits about himself and set his glass on the table, "Well, I have no need to ask what your favorite thing is."

"What would that be then?" Marcus asked with a raised eyebrow, looking genuinely curious.

Harry narrowed his eyes, trapping Flint, "Something you're no longer going to get."

Marcus leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms; it made his biceps bunch up nicely, and Harry supposed it only served to undermine his comment when Marcus hooked his ankle around the leg of Harry's chair and pulled him closer. In the unexpected jolt of movement, Harry's hands found a resting place on Marcus' strong thighs, which made his cheeks stain with color, leaving Marcus with a smug grin, "Now, Harry, why would you make promises you can't keep?"

"You're a right cocky bastard, aren't you?" Harry said as warm hands wrapped carefully around his sides and pulled him upright. He took a small step and stepped in between Marcus' legs, watching with great concentration as Flint leaned forward and licked his tongue over one of Harry's nipples.

"Yes," Marcus agreed, "but I would only call it a fault if I were unable to live up to your expectations." He traveled to Harry's other side and bit down, eliciting a small groan.

Blushing, Harry nodded, "Right, then."

iIiIiI

Hermione blushed scarlet into her salad later that day as she shared lunch with Harry in his flat. She was listening to Harry tell her about Marcus with rapt attention, "And then he took me to bed. We didn't even finish our breakfast."

"It sounds to me like this guy is getting under your skin," Hermione said. "In a good way, I mean. You haven't been able to stop talking about him since you two got together."

"Is that what you would call it?" Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I'm so confused. Less than a month ago, I didn't even think about this guy. Then, he showed up and decided that he was my boyfriend. Did you know that he didn't even bother telling _me_ that we were together. The first I heard of it was at your dinner party."

Hermione nodded, "It is a bit strange, but he did accompany you. That has to count for something, Harry. I mean, it works both ways; he doesn't know any of us. In fact, all he must know of you, Ron, and I is that we helped bring down Voldemort, the man for whom his parents supposedly worked. All I'm saying is that you probably aren't the only one who feels this way."

"He doesn't _seem _confused," said Harry, sliding his fingers around his cup of tea. "He initiated contact, he knows where I live, and he shows up here whenever he wants. Plus, lest we forget, he kidnapped me and took me to another country. It's ridiculous."

Hermione hesitated, "Some people would call it romantic."

Harry let out an agitated breath, "It's sexy as fuck, it's what it is. Sorry about cursing, Mione."

"It's alright," Hermione smiled, taking another bite of her dry meal.

"He drives me crazy," Harry gave a shaky laugh.

"Sometimes that's a good thing," Hermione patted his arm.

The floo went off, cutting off their conversation with an unexpected interruption. A very pissed of Lucas walked through, looking around until he saw Harry. He marched into the kitchen and bit out, "Tell your fucking boyfriend to stay the hell away from me. Where is he?"

"What?" Harry asked, taken aback.

"He tried to get me fired," Lucas was blotchy faced with agitation.

Harry shook his face, "There must be a mistake."

"No, there is no mistake. Bottlehagen won't do it, of course, and he pulled me into his office as soon as he heard anything. Apparently Flint has sent messages to some of the department Heads suggesting that the Ministry might be better off without me there," said Lucas. "How can you be with this guy?"

Harry was speechless, but he finally opened his mouth, "Lucas, I am so sorry. I will talk to him."

"Look, I don't know much about him; I will grant you that. What I do know of him, though, reveals him to be nothing but an insolent man who believes himself above everyone and everything. He has no respect for your working environment, or your friends, and he looks at you like you _belong _to him. You tell me if that's a healthy relationship," Lucas said long-windedly.

Hermione stood up and held up a hand, "Just a moment there, Lucas. I know you're angry, rightly so, but I think it's a bit unfair of you to try and influence Harry right now when you just got finished telling him about Marcus being the reason why you could have just lost your job."

"I'm being a friend," he insisted.

"No," Hermione pushed forward. "You are angry; why don't you go home and calm down?"

Lucas looked at Harry for support, but he found nothing there and finally left through the fireplace with a shake of his head. Harry watched him leave and turned to Hermione stonily, "What-"

"Harry, no. Don't do anything rash. Why don't you wait to talk to Marcus and ask him what it is that happened? There are always two sides to every story," Hermione said rationally.

"You just wanted me to keep him around for the sex stories," said Harry.

Hermione blushed but shook her head, "Not _only_ for that. Harry, Lucas might have some valid points, but Marcus doesn't _just _look at you as if you belong to him. He looks at you differently than he looks at other people. He looks like he cares."

As comforting as those words were meant to be, they left Harry more confused than he had been at the beginning of the day.

iIiIiI

"What did you do?" Harry's tone was nothing short of accusatory the moment Marcus stepped through the fireplace later that evening.

"I did a lot of things," Marcus responded calmly, shrugging off his outer robes and throwing them over the arm of Harry's couch. "Why don't you get a bit more specific?"

"Lucas; he said you tried to get him fired."

"Oh," Marcus looked unconcerned. Instead of answering, he walked closer to Harry and gave him a peck on the lips, "How was your day?"

Harry took a step back, "Don't ignore my question. Is it true you tried to get him fired, Marcus?"

"I may have sent a few letters."

Harry put a hand up against Marcus' belly and pushed him back, "Then I can't see you anymore."

Flint's face went very hard, "Why not?"

"Because Lucas is right; you have zero respect for my friends or my work. You can't possibly have thought that it was okay to go behind my back and get someone with whom I work fired. That's insane, not to mention arrogant and selfish," Harry knew his face was red and he was fighting hard to keep himself calm.

Marcus grabbed on to his hand and pulled him closer, "I do respect you, _you_, because you are with me. I have no reason to respect someone who knows that you are involved and still chooses to pursue you."

"So you tried to get him _fired_? That's ridiculous," Harry exclaimed.

"What's ridiculous is that you would keep that idiot around, that you would defend him so readily without realizing how it looks."

"Looks like to whom, Marcus? No one cares; he's my friend," said Harry.

"To_ me_, Harry. When I walked into the fucking hospital room, he was hovering around you so closely that if you tipped forward you two would have kissed," Marcus hissed furiously.

Harry looked offended, "I would _never _do that to you. Never. I have been with no one but you since you came into my life."

"Then why are you so eager to kick me out of it?" Marcus' eyes were heated as he pulled Harry closer still.

Harry looked stumped for a moment, "Because- because you are arrogant, cocky, and apparently you look at me like I belong to you."

Marcus pushed forward and kissed him, hard, "I _am _arrogant and cocky."

"And I don't know anything about your life, and- and," Harry was cut off by Marcus' heated tongue invading his mouth. One of his fingers looped down Harry's pants to pop the button.

He carried Harry to the bed and laid him down carefully, making sure that he didn't press down on Harry's upper body. He used his wand to rid himself of his clothes and Harry of his shirt, kissing the Auror to silence a stream of protests. He conjured lube into Harry and slipped his fingers inside quickly enough to catch Harry off guard. His eyes got this look of surprised pleasure, and he wrapped his legs around Marcus' waist, pulling him closer to his body. Marcus pushed Harry's hands above his head and held them there with one of his hands. He bit Harry's neck and soothed the mark with his tongue before pulling up and groaning, "You _do_ belong to me." Those words made it to Harry through a haze of pleasure, and he opened his mouth to say differently, but he was stopped with a hot tongue once again. Marcus pulled back and continued, "But I belong to _you _too." Then he slammed forward, basking in the strangled sound he tore from Harry's throat.

Harry could tell this was different from the times before. The heat, the passion, was the same, but it was almost as if Marcus was trying to prove something to him. Really, Harry couldn't remember why it was that he had even thought about saying goodbye to Marcus. This was unbelievable; _he _was unbelievable. It wasn't simply that he looked like a living sculpture or that the way he was hitting Harry's prostate made him cry out over and over into the room. Instead, it was something hidden in his eyes, which were swimming in pools of dark brown. He saw what Hermione had meant just then, could see something there that was all warmth and care. Marcus was concentrating very hard on making this as great for Harry as it could possibly be, taking with him the pleasure that came with having Harry push forward to slam into Marcus' thrusts.

Marcus was holding himself up with his left forearm, his other hand busy with Harry's cock. He brought Harry to climax and followed suit, relaxing into him when their breathing had calmed. Flint allowed himself to fall to his back and pulled Harry up to rest on his chest. His fingers came to rest tightly on Harry's hip, "Do you still want me to leave?"

Harry stared up into Marcus' eyes, looking as if he was contemplating it. Then he smiled and shook his head, "I don't think so. You have your uses."

Marcus gave him a toothy grin, "Would it be 'arrogant and cocky' of me to say 'I know'?"

"It's only a fault if you can't live up to my expectations," Harry smiled and pecked his lips, slipping their hands together.

iIiIiI

"Where are we?" Harry asked with a laugh, trying to step out of Marcus' arms.

Flint clutched him to his chest for a moment longer before allowing the Auror freedom to look about him, "In France." He had brought Harry to one of his Quidditch fields, curious to see his reaction when he saw where they were. The stadium was humongous, with enough seating for thousands of people. The golden posts at both ends were shiny and spectacular and the grass below them was brightly verdant and neatly trimmed.

"Wow," Harry said. He looked up at Marcus, "Why are we in a Quidditch field in France?"

"You wanted to know more about my life didn't you?" Marcus asked.

Harry nodded.

Marcus smiled and ran his fingers through Harry's hair down to the nape of his neck, "This belongs to me."

"No way," Harry said. "But I thought certain fields came with certain teams."

"Yes," said Marcus. "I own six in total; one is in England, two are here in France, one is in America, another in Bulgaria, and the last in Asia."

Harry had gone a little wide eyed, "Are you serious? That must cost a fortune."

"Yes," Marcus agreed, "but it makes triple that. If you want I can give you season tickets for any of the games in which my teams play."

Harry shook his head, "I couldn't ask you to do that."

Marcus grinned and pulled him back into his arms, "Whatever you want is yours, Harry."

Harry gave a surprised laugh, "I thought you were supposed to be cruel and self aggrandizing. Shouldn't you be doing something rough and intimidating rather than something so considerate?"

"Right," Marcus nodded. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice, "Potter, on your knees."

"What?"

Marcus slid his knee between Harry's legs, "I can be rough if you want."

Harry blushed, "Yes, you're rather good at that."

Marcus was going to answer when as short, tidy man came rushing to meet them in the middle of the field from a closed off room by the stands. He completely ignored Harry and focused on Flint, extending his hand out for a short handshake, "Mr. Flint, I didn't know to expect you today."

"Yes," Marcus had gone rigid and stepped in front of Harry to hide him from view. "I'm not here on business, Lunce."

"Oh," the man's eyes strayed to Harry for a moment. "Well, I will leave you, but please allow me to shortly tell you that Lennox has come off injury and is ready to play again. The stadium has been cleared by the French Ministry and we are ready for the season to begin."

Marcus nodded, "That will be all."

Harry watched the short man walk away and turned to Marcus with curiosity, "Why did you step in front of me?"

"Because Lunce is a sycophant who would latch on to your robes and kiss them for hours if he found out who you were. Trust me, you don't want that. It took me months to get him out of the habit of giving me false compliments. He's lucky he's good at his job," Marcus told him, relaxing once again.

"What does he do?"

"He's the general manager for this stadium. He deals with official business when I am out of the country and notifies me of any problems. He's also responsible for making sure that the players are healthy and happy," said Marcus.

"Hmm," Harry thought about it, "he sort of sounds like a glorified baby sitter."

Marcus grinned, "Yes, something like that. Would you like to visit my home?"

"You have a home here?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Marcus answered, then his eyes went a fantastic dark shade, "I can give you a tour and show you just how rough I can be."

Harry blushed and nodded, his mouth going a little dry, "I think I would like that."

"I can assure you that you will," Marcus whispered against his ear, wrapping his arms around Harry, and Disapparating them away.

iIiIiI

Unfortunately, Harry was made to wait for Marcus. As soon as they had stepped into his beautiful home full with wide rooms, tall ceilings, and rustic architecture, Marcus had been called away on business by the French coach who trained one of the teams there. He had been left with an apologetic kiss to wander about the house on his own. What he discovered was intriguing; the walls were covered with beautiful, moving pictures and portraits. However, they fit the house so perfectly well that Harry was willing to bet his left foot that a decorator had put it all together. He could not see Marcus taking the time to carefully select all of the things there, especially when the house itself looked so new and unused, as if it was mostly unoccupied. It was beautiful but lonely, and Harry was left feeling oddly nostalgic. When Marcus returned, he found Harry curled into the corner of the couch, looking about the room until his eyes settled on Marcus' form with relief.

"Hi," Harry said. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Marcus responded. "He just wanted to discuss one of the Chasers who has been having problems with his throwing arm. Are you alright?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine," Harry said feeling a little silly for having an odd, empty feeling in the bottom of his belly. "I'm a little hungry, actually."

"Would you like to go out for some dinner?"

Harry looked a little uncomfortable, "What- to like a wizarding restaurant?"

Marcus looked a little confused, "What else would I mean?"

"Oh, right. Pureblood, I forgot," Harry looked down at his hands. "Umm, sure."

Marcus narrowed his eyes, "What's wrong? Do you not want to go?"

"It's not really that," Harry began, avoiding looking at Marcus' arms. "It's just that there will be people there."

"And you don't want to be seen with me?" Marcus' voice was harsh.

"What? No! It's not that," Harry assured him quickly, jumping off the couch to go to Flint. "It's just that whenever I go places people usually tend to stare and make the night overall uncomfortable. They will be gawking at us, and nice witches will start coming up asking for autographs for their kids. And, Marcus, if we're honest, you take issue with anyone looking at me the wrong way. How are you going to react when men and women come up to our table and start asking me out even though they can see you plainly next to me?"

Marcus frowned, "You're right. We should stay home."

Harry smiled, "If you want, I can make us dinner."

"What? No," said Marcus. "I will have some of the servants make something."

"Oh," Harry said, unused to the idea of having servants altogether.

"What are you in the mood for?" Marcus asked, twirling a piece of Harry's hair between his fingers.

"Anything you want is fine," but at Marcus' look, he blushed and said, "Grilled cheese sandwiches sound awesome."

Marcus laughed and gifted him with a warm, amused look, "Anything else?"

"Maybe some ketchup?" Harry looked hopeful.

The innocent, avid look on Harry's face did Marcus in, and he left him to go to the kitchen with a long kiss. As he ordered the staff to make them dinner, getting a fair few odd looks, he wondered how it was that he had willingly traded in an evening of a five course gourmet meal for grilled cheese sandwiches with a messy haired Auror. It was more interesting still that he would not change the evening for the world.

iIiIiI

Later that night, Harry was having a difficult time holding in his laughter. He and Marcus were laying on Marcus' bed, and Marcus was having a very hard time not falling asleep. After their dinner, which was filled with Marcus' laughter as he watched Harry eat ketchup covered grilled cheese sandwiches with horrified eyes, Harry had asked Marcus to show him what a typical day was like for him. Marcus had agreed, at ease in Harry's presence. They had sat talking for a while longer, however, Marcus sipping a glass of red wine, and Harry had learned very interesting things about the man. After some prompting, he had admitted that his favorite color was deep purple. He liked animals, especially dogs, but was too busy to keep one. He traveled a lot, going all over the world to make sure that his investments were kept in running order. Marcus told Harry that he was still in possession of his deceased father's businesses, and that he was financially stable, as if Harry could not tell.

Then, he took his turn asking Harry, all kinds of questions that ended more often than not with a kiss. Marcus was very tactile, Harry noticed. Even while sitting, at least one part of his body was always in contact with Harry, and it took him time to realize that Flint seemed to draw comfort from it. He relaxed into the touch, and he seemed fascinated to learn what Harry's favorite ice cream was, cookies and cream, and to know that Harry liked coffee with his sugar more than the other way around. Harry also shared his love for Muggle bubble gum and his obsession with old movies with American actors. Afterwards, Harry prompted Marcus to show him what he would usually do at this hour and was shown into a large room in the second floor which contained large exercise equipment. Harry got what he asked for and sat around watching Marcus run on a treadmill sort of machine that ran on magic rather than electricity. Then, Flint took time to lift weights, making the muscles in his body ripple in a way that made Harry want to lick the small drops of sweat running down the middle of Marcus' stomach. In the end, he gave in, and interrupted the work out session by tugging demandingly on Marcus' only piece of clothing besides his socks and running shoes, a pair of low slung sweat pants.

The fact that Marcus did not like to wear underwear made drawing his attention much easier, and he came willingly to Harry, cupping his cheeks as they kissed. Marcus tasted of sweat and smelled of cologne. Beneath all that, however, Harry could detect something that was all him, fresh and musky at the same time in a combination that made Harry wrap his naked legs around Marcus and straddle him on the mat on the floor. The room, like many other workout rooms, was complete with tall mirrors which gave Harry a spectacular view of himself as he plunged down onto Marcus. He could see the muscles of his own belly clenching with the effort, but he soon gave up looking at the mirrors in favor of staring at Marcus who had a look on his face that was all power and sex. Harry had never been affected by a man like this, had never wanted to melt so willingly and completely into the moments of immeasurable pleasure which their exploits boasted. Marcus Flint had something special about him, but Harry could not yet point out what.

They had showered together afterwards and had gone to bed, both completely naked, though Harry only so because he had not thought to bring an overnight bag with him. He had curled himself onto Marcus and within minutes, he noticed the tired way in which his eyes began to droop before springing awake, as if he was unwilling to rest before Harry fell asleep. His shoulders shaking with silent laughter, Harry finally said, "You can fall asleep, you know. I won't be offended."

"But then you will stare at me for hours, and I will be forced to wake up to your lies about how you don't find me earth shatteringly irresistible," Marcus teased him.

Harry grinned and shook his head, "You have such a big head."

Marcu lifted the sheets and glanced down, "Yes, I know."

Blushing, Harry smacked his hand and let the sheets drop again, "You're impossible, Marcus."

"What would you like to do tomorrow?" Marcus asked instead of responding, changing the conversation.

"Well, I was going to offer to baby sit Rose. It's lucky you showed up before I visited Hermione; I'm free to do whatever you feel like. Oh, you know what would be nice? Going swimming," Harry smiled broadly.

Marcus carded his fingers through Harry's and asked, "To a beach or a pool?"

"Oh," Harry said. "Whatever's more convenient."

"No," Marcus shook his head. "I'm asking you what you would prefer."

Harry smiled, "Really?"

"Yes, really," Marcus said, rolling his eyes, though he softened the comment by pecking Harry's lips.

"Umm, the beach would be great."

"The beach it is." Then, after a second of thinking, "If you want, we can take care of Rose later on in the week."

Harry pushed himself up on his elbows to look at Flint, "Are you serious?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"

Harry shook his head and widened his eyes, "Who would have thought it? The feared, horrible Marcus Flint likes babies!"

Marcus mimicked Harry and shook his head, "Who would have thought it? The famous, honorable Harry Potter writhing beneath a cunning Slytherin?"

"Where is this cunning person of which you speak?" Harry looked about, but let out a long, happy laugh when he was dragged underneath Marcus. Apparently, he wasn't as tired as Harry had thought.

iIiIiI

"Marcus, look!" Harry sank himself excitedly on the sand next to Marcus, showing off a collection of shells he had swam for in the clear waters of the white sand beach.

Marcus smiled broadly, already darker than he had been a few hours ago. His cheeks were rosy pink, as was the bridge of his nose, and his shoulders showed off the beginnings of a sunburn, "Feel proud of yourself, then?"

Harry smiled so hard that his nose crinkled, "Disgustingly so."

Marcus laughed and pulled him down for a kiss, "They're very nice, Harry."

"Thank you for bringing me," Harry said at long last, drawing a deep breath when they had parted.

Marcus got this soft, peaceful look in his eyes and said, "Whatever you want, Harry Potter, if I can give it to you, you will have."

Harry's stomach erupted into a frenzy of butterflies, and he could not, for the life of him, figure out if it was because of that look, those words, or the strong arms that wrapped around him and pulled him down on the warm sand to enjoy the rays of the sun on his pale skin.

iIiIiI

The next day, at Marcus' insistence, they called on Hermione and offered the grateful witch baby sitting duties. She had looked incredibly relieved the moment they came through the fireplace and greeted both of them warmly. After being away from everyone, alone with Marcus, it shocked Harry slightly to see how different Flint was around others. He was cold and impassive, and his shoulders, which had been loose and relaxed while they were away, tightened the moment anyone intruded on their time together. To his credit, he was not rude or unkind, merely extremely reserved, as if he did not know how nor cared to interact with a twenty-two year old overwhelmed mother who was near tears at the possibility of getting a couple of hours of sleep. She had brought Rose into the living room, set the bassinet next to the couch, handed Harry the remote to the TV, and told them thank you once again before going into her room and shutting the door.

Harry took time to explain to Marcus how this was something that he did for his friend at least once a week if it was possible. She was so tired from taking care of the baby at night and during the day, having to feed her so often, as well as working at home though she was on maternity leave, that he was more than happy to watch the baby while she caught up on some sleep. Marcus had listened, but his attention had been concentrated on the baby; his index finger was already in little Rose's grasp, and he did not look like he minded whatsoever. Testing him out, Harry had handed him tiny Rose, though he protested slightly, and watched with satisfaction as he settled her in the crook of his arm, holding her attention until she fell asleep. Even then, he held her for a couple of minutes before handing her to Harry so he could set her down in her bassinet to get some rest.

After that, they watched TV and Harry teased Marcus about his fascination with the moving, talking characters. He had settled Harry between his legs, his own back in the arm of the couch, and had defended himself, "Hey, it's not my fault. I have never seen something like this. It's like a picture with sound and plot."

"Do you like it?" Harry asked, craning his neck on Marcus' shoulder to look up at him.

Marcus hesitated as if sensing what was coming and finally admitted, "Yes."

"Ha!" Harry let out quietly, glancing at the baby to make sure she remained asleep. "Muggle awesomeness 1, Pureblood lameness 0."

Marcus rolled his eyes and tightened his hold around Harry, "You're awfully annoying for such a small person."

Harry turned his body slightly and kissed Marcus' jaw, "Well, you seem fond of me; I must be doing something right."

Marcus smirked, "Nearly as fond as you are of me."

"Cocky bastard."

Marcus pulled Harry into a long, sexy kiss and said, "Tell me it's not deserved."

Harry remained quiet, Marcus' breathy laugh by his ear the only sound in the room aside from the TV and the baby's soft breathing.

iIiIiI

Hey! REVIEW and let me know what you think of the progression! I really enjoy hearing what all of you think, genuinely. Have fun, kids! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Aly


	4. Chapter 4

"Harry, could you please let me see your report on the McGibben case so that I can make sure that all of the details coincide?" Lucas asked Harry two weeks after his return from his injury leave, oddly tense around him, unwilling to talk. His eyes would linger on Harry, however, and it did nothing short of making him think that Lucas was waiting for Harry to approach him. The heavy accusation in his eyes insinuated the need for an apology.

"Sure, no problem," Harry said. He opened a filing cabinet on his desk and began rifling through, "Just a second. I have it here somewhere."

Lucas perched himself on the edge of Harry's desk; he cleared his throat and asked casually, "Did you have a good week off?"

"Yeah," Harry smiled, coming up with the file. "It was very relaxing."

"Did you do anything special?" Lucas asked, reaching for the file and allowing his fingers to graze Harry's.

Harry pulled his hand back and hesitated, "Umm, yeah, actually. I took a bit of a trip to France."

"Oh?" Lucas raised his eyebrows. "With-"

"With Marcus, yeah," Harry avoided his eyes, looking down at the parchment on his next case in front of him instead.

In the long silence that followed, when Harry finally looked up, he saw that Lucas was doing a valiant job of trying to not say something that ended up bursting from him in a rush of air, "But you don't even know the guy!"

Harry sighed and closed his eyes, "Lucas, I know you're concerned for me, and I really appreciate that you value our friendship that much, but I can take care of myself, alright? I know what I'm doing, and-"

"But _seriously_, Harry," Lucas insisted, shaking his head. "How long have you known this guy? Don't you think it's too soon to be going on holidays with him? Hell, you were the one that agreed with me that he is full of himself."

Harry groaned in frustration, "Alright, enough! I get that you don't like Marcus. Okay? I get it, but Lucas, this is _my _relationship, and _I'm_ happy with it. Besides, we have been together more than a month. Doesn't that count for something?"

Lucas sighed, "I just don't know what you see in him."

Harry frowned, "Well luckily you don't have to. Just leave all the seeing to me." Though he knew he shouldn't, he derived some satisfaction from the flush that covered Lucas' face, and he couldn't help but feel a small sense of relief when, with a nod, Lucas walked back to his desk and gave him back his space.

iIiIiI

"Well, you seem happy," Ron grinned at Harry, visiting a couple of days later. Hermione, Ginny, and the baby were having girls' time, and he had taken refuge in Harry's flat.

"Yeah," Harry grinned, buttoning up a black long sleeved shirt that he had yet to tuck into his nicest pair of black slacks. "Marcus is taking me out."

"What's the occasion?" Ron asked, looking very amused as Harry tried to make himself look presentable.

Harry shrugged and extended his hands so that his friend could help button the wrists, "No idea. He refused to tell me but insisted that I dress nicely. So, I'm going off blind trust and I'm doing what he told me to do."

"Isn't that domestic of you?" Ron teased lightly.

"Oh, shut up; you're so whipped you haven't eaten a proper meal in nearly a month because of Hermione," said Harry.

"Hey!" Ron blushed. "I'm being a supportive husband."

"Well, I'm being a supportive boyfriend," Harry shot back.

Ron shook his head, "You can't say that; you don't even know where he's taking you. Why did he ask you to get dressed, anyway? Don't you guys spend most of your time naked?"

Harry blushed and tried to look dignified, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Ron laughed jovially, "Mm hmm. Oh, Harry, give it up, mate. Your hair is never going to lie down."

Just then, the floo went off and Marcus came through, looking marvelously impeccable in a dark grey suit that contrasted wonderfully with his dark brown eyes; Harry smiled at him and said, "Sorry about the hair. I tried."

Marcus laughed and from the surprised look that shot across Ron's face, it was obvious that it was the first time he had heard such a friendly sound leave Marcus' mouth, "Fighting a losing battle there. You look wonderful."

"Yeah, Harry, _wonderful_," Ron teased. "Alright, I guess this is my cue to leave. You two turtle doves have fun." He turned on his heel and Disapparated with a wave.

Marcus' brows flicked down in a small scowl, "Did he just call me a turtle dove?"

Harry laughed and wrapped his arms around Marcus' waist, leaning on tippy toes to peck his lips, "The best looking, damned fiercest, most threateningly bad ass turtle dove ever."

Marcus burst out in laughter again, "Well, I guess it's not so bad to be one of those."

"Nope," Harry shook his head.

Marcus pressed their foreheads together and ran his thumb over Harry's cheek, "You're ridiculous."

"Yes," Harry agreed. Then, "Where are we going?"

"Were you hoping to catch me off guard there?" Marcus looked at Harry as if he knew better. "I haven't told you the hundredth billionth time you have asked, and I'm not going to tell you now. We're about to get there; be patient."

Harry sighed, "Alright, but only because you promised it's going to be wonderful."

"Promise," Marcus reassured him, throwing Harry's cloak over the Auror's shoulders and leading him into the fireplace where he floo-ed them away.

iIiIiI

"Holy mother of freaking awesomeness!" Harry slipped out, going completely unheard amidst the roaring of the crowd.

After flooing into an office fireplace, Marcus had led Harry down a hall into an open passage that showed a humongous Quidditch field filled with thousands of people. At first glance, Harry had thought it to be the one in France but then noticed that the seats, instead of dark brown, were a shiny, new black color. He caught a glimpse of players flying around the field warming up and realized with surprise exactly where they were. He had read earlier in the Daily Prophet that earlier in the year the Harpies had passed to a new owner's hands, though to whom they had gone had never been specified. It was more than obvious now; these must have been the expensive renovations that had been boasted about in the paper, leaving the field looking smooth and perfect and the shooting hoops shiny in the bright sunlight. Grinning up at Flint, Harry could only think that whatever his faults might be, Marcus certainly knew how to take a bloke on a date.

"Do you like it?" Marcus asked against his ear, pressing his hand on the small of Harry's back. "I wasn't sure how you would react to so many people here."

Harry's eyes were shiny with excitement, "Are you kidding? This _is_ wonderful!"

Marcus gave him a large, very personal smile then said, "I have seats for us in the topmost box. Some other important business people will be there, but they should be too proud and self absorbed to attack you with autograph requests."

Harry smiled, allowing himself to be led up past fans on the way upstairs to the box, "That sounds great."

In their excitement with the upcoming game, no one took the time to pay attention to them as they passed, and they made it into the spacious box without any problems. Inside, Harry and Marcus found a set of witches and wizards all clad in robes just as expensive and nice looking as the one on Marcus' shoulders. They looked shiny and important and were talking to each other as if they had better things to be doing, though what those things could be Harry had no idea. He saw Marcus roll his eyes at them and the regain his composure quickly as he was approached with wide smiles and pompous speech. Marcus was very regal and reserved as he interacted with them and made sure to keep Harry by his side. The first person that took interest in him was a pale, tall witch with large eyes. She looked between Marcus and him with what could easily be read as annoyed surprise; she regarded him cooly even when he was introduced to the room, though the others made a point of talking with him after the match began.

It was actually slightly irksome, because he was genuinely interested in the game and had been looking forward to seeing the action. The middle-aged, balding wizard by his side, however, seemed not to care and was going on and on about himself to Harry, "-had a very important deal to close today but decided to see how Marcus' little venture turned out, you see."

Harry frowned; he didn't like the condescending way in which Marcus' business was called a _'little _venture.' He turned to the man and said, "Well, I think it turned out splendidly. I think it's safe to say, in fact, that it is a veritable success."

The man seemed a little tan aback by the tone in Harry's voice, but Marcus smiled fondly at him and whispered in his ear, "Go easy on them. They're already disappointed and sad as it is that I didn't fail. How do you think it makes them feel for you to rub it in?"

Harry could only shake his head, "_These _are your friends?"

Marcus merely raised his eyebrows and smiled, turning to lend his ear to the same witch that had gone out of her way to ignore Harry. At first, it didn't bother him; in a weird way it was sort of refreshing to have someone be so open about apparently disliking him. Then he started noticing the way she laid her hands all over Marcus' body, comfortably, as if they had been there before. She was not very overt about drawing Marcus' attention, but as the evening wore on, Harry kept having a much harder time actually speaking to Marcus. He was either talking with her or suddenly a group of people would hound him for know-how of Quidditch as a business. Though they didn't seem particularly interested, everyone in the room clung to Marcus' words as he explained the long procedure that had to be followed in order to get the stadium up and running. Somehow it led to the web of legal problems upheld by the Ministry, and Harry was made to listen uncomfortably as the group went on and on about the distasteful manner in which they all seemed to find the country was being run. They were all so eager to get a word in that thankfully no one bothered to ask him what he thought about it.

He tried to reign in his temper, to keep it in check, but he was having a much harder time of it when the fucking same woman kissed Marcus' cheek and he did nothing about it but hand her the glass of wine he had left Harry's side to get. At one point, her hand managed to sit on Marcus' knee, and Harry took great satisfaction in asking Marcus to get him something to drink as well. He could have easily done it himself, and he would not have minded either, but the thought of that damn woman putting her paws on Marcus again made his stomach clench. Eventually, even Marcus seemed to catch on to Harry's foul mood. Though he knew Marcus had not really done anything, Harry found himself ignoring the man in favor of watching the game. He did his best to drown out the banter going on in the room about stocks and charity fundraisers. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the woman drawing Marcus' attention and asking him if he thought her dress was pretty, to which Marcus smoothly replied in affirmation. Harry scowled and reveled in thoughts of how _ordinary_ her dress was. It wasn't like she was _that _pretty. Sure, she was tall and poised, and she had high cheekbones, but she was also rude and obviously very into herself. Unfortunately, she was also very clever and entertained Marcus until the end of the game while Harry seethed in his seat, wishing he was a beater on the field hitting a bludger to let off some steam.

iIiIiI

When they Apparated to Marcus' home in Ireland later that night, Harry had the strong urge to kick something. He had not been able to bring himself to talk with Marcus and was avoiding him, using the bathroom as an excuse to get away. Flint had obviously found it strange that Harry had asked to change alone but had allowed Harry his space and waited for him. After a few minutes of sitting on the edge of the tub, however, Harry heard Marcus knocking on the door, asking if everything was okay. He answered with a curt yes and let him know that he had to brush his teeth, turning on the water to drown out Marcus' voice. He didn't know why he was this angry, but he was. He was furious. Every time that he thought about the woman, though she had really done nothing to him, he wished that he could throw a vase. In the end, however, he had to go back out and did so, dragging his feet, until he made to the bed and pulled back the covers, not once looking at Flint.

Marcus was looking at him curiously, standing on the other side of the bed. He was waiting for Harry to say something and let out a frustrated breath when he saw no comment was forthcoming. Looking agitated, tired, and confused, Marcus finally said, "Harry, I thought I was doing something nice."

"It _was_ very nice," Harry said, nodding his way. "Good night."

"Wait, what? What's wrong? Why are you ignoring me?" Marcus asked with frown.

Harry shook his head and took off his glasses, laying them carefully on the stand next to the bed, "I'm not. It was a long day, so why don't we get some sleep?"

Marcus ran his hands over his face and shook his head, "Tell me what's wrong."

Harry scowled at the commanding tone, "No."

"So there is something wrong!" Marcus exclaimed instead, laying on the bed so that he could get closer to Harry. He put his hand on Harry's cheek and turned the Auror's head to look at him, "Harry, I have no idea what I did."

Harry tore his head away, "You didn't do anything."

From such a short distance, he could clearly see Marcus' cheeks flush with frustration, "Obviously I did, because you have been refusing to talk to me all night."

"_Me_ refusing to talk to _you_? That's bloody rich," Harry said sarcastically.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Figure it out," Harry said, making to turn his back on Marcus.

"No," Marcus pulled him back. "You don't get to just ignore me after saying something like that. What did I do, Harry?"

Then, it burst like Harry, his temper getting the better of him, "Fucking nothing, okay! You did nothing; you were a perfect host, completely attentive to everyone, especially that _woman_." His tone insinuated that instead of woman, he meant _thing_. He pushed forward, recklessly, "She seemed to be getting a lot your attention tonight."

Marcus looked confused, "What woman?"

"The one on your other side. You know, the blond."

Marcus suddenly grinned, making Harry see red, "You're jealous."

"What? No."

"Yes, you are," Marcus seemed as if he was really enjoying this now. "You're mad at me, because you think that I paid her more attention than I did you."

Harry huffed and crossed his arms, "I don't _think_ anything. You did pay her more attention than me; hell, you paid everyone more attention than me."

Marcus shook his head, "That's more than a little unfair, Harry. These are people in my network, people on whom I depend from time to time who are interested in a laying stocks on my fields in high powered bets with foreign wizards. Not to mention that some of them pay heavily for advertisement during games and use some of our players as spokespersons for their products. It's business."

"Are you sure that's all you depend on them for?" Harry asked, nevermind that he knew he had just crossed the line.

Marcus frowned and his eyes went dark, "Don't say that."

"I can say whatever the hell I please," Harry pushed against his chest and got up. "I'm going home."

Marcus vaulted the bed and stood in front of him, grabbing one of his hands and pulling Harry against his chest, "No, you are _not_."

"Yes, I _am_," Harry said, struggling to get free.

"You are being completely irrational," Marcus told him, setting his hands on Harry's ass and dragging him up. It forced Harry to wrap his legs around Marcus' waist in fear of being dropped.

Regardless, Harry used his hands to try and push him off, "Don't tell me what I am or am not. You have no idea who I am."

Marcus let him drop on the bed, clambering between his legs before Harry could get away, "I actually think I have a much clearer idea about what's going on with you than you do at the moment." He grabbed Harry's wrists above his head with one hand and ran his other beneath Harry's pajama top, "You are, in fact, jealous and are lashing out, because you are afraid to admit that one, you _really _like me and two, you can now understand what it was like for me to see your little _friend _coming on to you."

"So, she was coming on to you!" Harry focused on winning the argument.

Marcus scoffed, "Of course she was coming on to me! She wants to get in my pants and into my bank account, along with the rest of the Pureblooded witches in our circle of friends."

"You don't have to sound so fucking happy about it," Harry tried to slide away only to be dragged back down, Marcus' knee sinking in between his legs.

"What? Does it make you uncomfortable that other people want to touch my body?" Marcus asked, biting on his neck. Harry tried to fight him off, feeling as Marcus used one hand to rip his shirt open, sending buttons scattering about them on the bed. "Does it make you angry that other people want to have _this_?" Marcus pushed his hard cock onto Harry's, which was up despite Harry's best attempts to make it drop. "Does it make you positively seethe that other people want me to _fuck_ them the way I fuck _you_?" Marcus whispered hotly against Harry's ear, smirking in satisfaction when Harry turned his head and kissed him harshly as if both driven crazy by his words and the wish to make them come true.

Before Harry had a moment to change his mind, Marcus was dragging down his pajama bottoms and his boxers with strong pulls, leaving him completely naked after dispersing with his top. Harry successfully rid Marcus of his suit jacket, but his shaking fingers could not seem to get the hang of his tie and in a burst of frustration, his magic reacted and left Marcus naked and surprised above him. Without hesitating, Marcus used his own magic to lubricate Harry and pushed with his fingers until Harry was loose enough to enter. He pushed forward and rammed himself inside, giving Harry a moment to catch his breath. He stayed put, encased in heat, and pushed Harry's hands above his head again, linking his own fingers to the Auror's. Marcus stared down heatedly into Harry's eyes and said, "I would never be unfaithful to you, Harry. Never."

"You're mine?" Harry asked, hazy eyed, biting his bottom lip.

Marcus pulled back and slammed forward, "Yes." Harry was moaning loudly beneath him; the heat between them was intense, driven by frustration and Harry's jealousy. However, Marcus' declaration lightened the mood, taking it from angry sex to make up sex, all the sweeter for Marcus' thick cock slamming forward continuously. Harry clung on to him tightly, savoring the moment. Midway through, Marcus slowed the furious pace and kissed him deeply in a way that reassured Harry, that made him appreciate Marcus all the more. When they finished, Harry could feel Marcus' hot sperm leaving him and saw his own coating Marcus' lower stomach. It was deeply satisfying to see it, like confirmation that Marcus did not mind being claimed.

After a few moments of laying together, Marcus was seated with his back against the headboard. Harry slid from his arms and straddled his waist, hooking his arms around Marcus' neck, "I'm sorry."

Marcus grinned, "Do you admit you were jealous?"

Harry frowned, "No."

"Apology not accepted then," Marcus sad, kissing the corner of Harry's mouth, up his jawline and onto his ear. "Come on, admit it."

Harry shook his head stubbornly.

"So you wouldn't mind if I were to see her tomorrow or next week at an event?" Marcus teased.

Harry's lower stomach clenched in anger, but he made his face impassive, "Of course not."

"You wouldn't mind if she tried to kiss me again?"

"Again?" Harry looked furious.

Marcus laughed triumphantly, "I think I just proved my point, Mr. Potter."

Harry sighed, "Fine, fine. Maybe I was a little, tinsy bit jealous."

"Mm hmm," Marcus was giving him a cocky, self satisfied look.

"But, just the same, maybe you shouldn't be around her that much from now own," Harry said.

Marcus smiled and pecked his lips, "Is that what you want?"

Harry thought about how it had come out and sighed, "No, I'm no one to tell you who you can and cannot see."

"So noble," Marcus shook his head smiling. "Nonetheless, I think I will make that promise. I will do my best to keep away from Marlana, Mr. Potter, to keep you happy."

Harry gave him a small smile, "You would do that?"

"For you?" Marcus settled his hands comfortably around Harry's waist and pulled him closer. "Anything."

iIiIiI

"Ohmigosh!" Hermione exclaimed a week later when Harry was finally able to get away from work long enough to tell her about it. "That is _so _sweet, Harry!"

Harry smiled brightly, holding the baby, "I know."

He and Hermione were sitting together on her couch, and she was squirming happily, "He actually said he would do anything for you?"

"Yep," Harry answered. He looked at her and shook his head, "You know the thing that scares me is that I actually think he means it."

"Well, I don't doubt it," Hermione said, beginning to count a list off with her fingers. "First, he takes you to Ireland, and he showed up when you were hurt. He took you too France with him, to his home there, and then surprised you by taking you to a Quidditch game because he thought you would enjoy it. Harry, I don't really know Marcus, but you're lucky he's gay. Otherwise, I might have been forced to leave my beloved and try and bed your man."

Harry laughed, "I wouldn't blame you."

Hermione smiled at him, "So, you're feeling better about being with him, then?"

"Yeah," Harry said, shrugging. The baby was laying on his knees and he made silly faces at her before continuing, "It's weird, you know, but I actually really like him. I know that Lucas can't stand him and that normal people think he's a stuck up narcissist, but he's really nice to me, and he has never been rude to you guys. Things would be different if he had been openly hostile to the people that I love, but he has gone out of his way to be civil to you all. I mean, if that doesn't show that he's serious about wanting to be with me then what does?"

Hermione contemplated Harry's words and nodded after a moment, "Well, if I were you, I wouldn't care about what Lucas has to say. I know he's a nice guy and that he's your friend, but everyone knows that he has wanted to go out with you well before Marcus came into your life. Even if Marcus was as sweet as a basket of peaches, I really doubt that Lucas would have anything nice to say about him."

"I thought you liked Lucas, Mione," Harry said.

Hermione shrugged, "It's not like I _dislike _him. I just don't appreciate that he purposely tried to meddle in your life without you asking for his advice. Plus, I happen to agree with Marcus. Once you told him to butt out of your relationship, he should have listened the first time. He's jealous so I understand, but I still don't think that it excuses his actions."

"But to be fair," Harry said, shifting his eyes, "Marcus _was _rude to him. I mean, he threatened to kick Lucas' arse without having to say the words. It also wasn't okay that he tried to get him fired; I don't care how jealous you are. That's just not the right way about solving a problem."

Hermione smiled, "See, you like him but can still keep a clear head about his faults. That's good. It means that you _are _in a healthy relationship, unlike what Lucas said. If it were different and you were showering us with your thoughts of how utterly perfect you thought Marcus was, then I would have something to worry about. As it is, this is the first time that I have seen you genuinely happy with someone."

Harry picked up the baby and laid her against his shoulder, patting her back to quiet her fussing, "I feel happy."

Hermione picked up her cup of tea from the coffee table and took a sip, "So, what are you going to do for his birthday?"

"What?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Well, it's on September twenty-fourth, nearly three weeks from now, but I thought that you might have already have something planned," she said, wrinkling her nose as she swallowed the last of her drink.

Harry shook his head, "I didn't even know his birthday was coming up. Wait a minute, how do _you_ know when his birthday is?"

Hermione looked sheepish and blushed slightly, "I went by the office the other day, and I just happened to be talking with Nehlie, you know, from the Department of Magical Business. We just happened to glance at Marcus' album, and it said when he was born."

Harry shook his head, "Hermione..."

"Sorry," she said. "I was just curious."

"It's alright; I just want us all to respect his privacy, you know?"

Hermione nodded, serious, "Definitely; sorry."

Harry smiled, "It's okay. So, you look like you lost all of the baby weight!"

Hermione sighed, "One and a half kilos to go."

"Poor Ron," Harry laughed, making an amused Hermione burst out in giggles.

iIiIiI

"What's your favorite restaurant?" Harry asked Marcus curiously later on in the week. Marcus was spending the weekend with him, and they were currently sitting on the couch talking about their day.

Marcus sighed contentedly into Harry's hair, Harry's head resting on his shoulder, and said, "The Albion in Diagon Alley; they have the best crab Linguine pasta I have ever tasted. Why?"

"Just curious," Harry said, playing with Marcus' fingers. "Hey, are you alright? You seem a little tense today."

"It's nothing," Marcus told him. "Tomorrow I'm taking Bagman to court, and I'm already busy enough as it is."

Harry pushed up and turned to face Marcus, "Umm, do you mind telling me what it is that he did?"

Marcus shook his head, obviously frustrated, "He's just a useless idiot. You know how I newly acquired my Quidditch field here in England? Well, before the first game on a field can be held, the Ministry has to authorize its safety. Because it traded ownership hands, I had to jump through a lot of hoops just to get a safety official out there. However, Bagman was an old friend of the previous owner and merely instructed the fellow to do a cursory check. He was supposed to go with the chap to check on things, but he refused to do it. The first practice of the season started in mid July and the Harpies had spectators. Well, one of our stands collapsed next to the group. Could you imagine what would have happened if anyone had been hurt? My business would have taken an extremely hard hit."

"So, you're suing Ludo for negligence?" Harry asked.

"Yes, and it's nothing less than he deserves. He's lucky it happened during the Summer. I shudder to think that it could have occurred during a game. You know, I had to pay safety regulators out of my own pocket to make sure that everything was in working order. That's why we renovated the field in such a hurry."

"I bet you Ludo thought it was fine," Harry told him, kissing his cheek.

Marcus rolled his eyes, "That man is a blithering idiot, and I don't care how many times people say otherwise."

"I'm sorry for bringing it up," Harry laid his hand atop Marcus' heart. "Let's talk about something else."

Marcus thought for a moment then finally declared, "I want cake."

Harry let out a startled laugh, "What?"

Marcus shrugged, "Doesn't that sound delicious right now?"

Harry's eyebrows flicked together. "It _does_," he realized. "Actually, there's a bakery right around the corner if you want to go."

Marcus pushed on his shoulders and made it seem like he was going to let Harry drop before quickly scooping him back, "Well, let's go!"

Harry stood up, laughing, "I have never seen you this enthusiastic about anything."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Marcus' eyes strayed down Harry's body, making the Auror blush.

"We will have to walk," Harry said, walking over to the coat rack to throw on a sweatshirt. "It's a Muggle place."

Marcus stopped midway between putting on his outer robe, "So-"

"No robe, I'm afraid," Harry grinned.

Marcus shook his head, "Barbaric..."

They made light conversation while they took to the early September night, a small, cool breeze blowing headfirst onto them as they walked. Harry was happy to see that Marcus took interest in the Muggle world around him, a place that seemed alien to him though he could have accessed it at any time. He shook his head at still billboards that refused to move no matter how long he took to stare at them. When he saw a woman talking animatedly into a cell phone, he pulled Harry closer to his side, his eyes betraying that he thought she was insane. Harry took great pleasure in demystifying the things around them. They eventually made it to the brightly lit bakery and had an easy trek to the counter in the late hour. It was nearing closing time, and the poor woman at the counter was urging them with her eyes to make up their minds. In the end, they bought a medium sized chocolate cake with whip cream icing and cookies on top; it was amazing.

The way back to Harry's flat went by at a much faster pace. Both were eager to dig in and as soon as they made it past the door, Harry rushed into his kitchen and returned with two forks, "Would you like a plate?"

"Nope," Marcus said sitting down on the couch and opening the box. He tapped the spot next to him and waited until Harry joined him to take the first bite. "I think I just found the reason to live."

Harry took a sinful bite and played along, "This cake is so amazing that it doesn't style its hair. It's stays in place out of sheer terror."

Marcus caught on, "This cake grinds coffee with its teeth and boils water with its rage."

Harry thought for a moment and grinned, "This cake does not eat food. Food realizes that the only safe place from this cake's fists are inside its body."

"This cake is literally the only thing to have beat the odds...with its fists," Marcus threw back.

"This cake _can_ believe it's not butter," Harry said.

Marcus had actually seen the commercial and burst out laughing, "I'm impressed. You win this one."

"This cake is orgasmic," Harry breathed out, taking another bite.

"A liar, sir, you are not," Marcus responded.

He brought Harry close for a kiss and smeared some of the icing on Harry's bottom lip when he pulled back. Harry retaliated by smearing it over Marcus' neck, taking special care in cleaning it up. He didn't know how it happened, but Marcus maneuvered him naked on the couch, eating cake he placed all over Harry's body. He dragged his teeth down Harry's hip bone and wrapped his tongue around Harry's tip, licking away stray icing. He placed himself between Harry's legs and prepared him leisurely, taking his time once inside with each stroke. When they finished, they were sticky with sweat, body fluids, and sugar. Icing decorated Harry's flushed cheeks, and Harry could see chocolate crumbs in Marcus' dark hair. They laid together afterwards shaking with silent laughter, Marcus' fingers tracing Harry's side as they trailed their way up and down.

"Do you know what you have just done?" Harry asked Marcus in the afterglow of their activities. "You have just made me associate cake with amazing sex for the rest of my life."

Marcus smirked at him, "Well, we both agreed it was orgasmic."

Harry's delighted laugh filled the room, and Marcus was forced to tickle him to keep the lovely sound coming from his lips. When they laid in bed later, showered and clean, Harry watched Marcus sleep for the first time and took special pride in the look of happiness that was settled comfortably on his face.

iIiIiI

Here you are! I hope you all enjoyed it. Let me know what you think about the progression of their relationship. I appreciate hearing all of your thoughts so REVIEW! I also want to extend the invitation for you all to tell me if you would want this to be a MPREG fanfic or if you would like for them to adopt instead. Please take a moment to leave your thoughts in a REVIEW; it literally can just be one word. I want all of you to participate, so let me know!

REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Aly


	5. Chapter 5

"Marcus," Harry said Monday, September twenty-first, "What are you doing on Thursday?"

Marcus hesitated, "This Thursday?"

"Yes," Harry nodded in affirmation, stirring the homemade Chinese they were going to eat that night. Harry had shown up after a long day of work to find Marcus sleeping peacefully on his couch, looking more tired in rest than Harry felt awake. He had let him doze for a while longer, thinking that Marcus overworked himself, and set about making them dinner. Marcus had woke up midway through the preparation of their meal and stumbled into the kitchen, messy haired and bleary eyed. He had wrapped his arms around Harry from behind and kissed his neck then had gone off to sit on an island chair to watch Harry as he worked.

"Oh, ah, I thought maybe we could do something together," Marcus answered. Then, he asked curiously, "Did you already have something planned?"

"Well, it's not like it was planned, really, but there's this movie that's coming out in the cinema that I _really _want to see, and I thought that maybe you would like to go with me," Harry turned to face him with a smile.

"Oh," Marcus was doing a very valiant job of not looking disappointed. "Does it have to be _this _Thursday?"

Harry widened his eyes, "I _really, really _want to see it."

Marcus smiled and crooked a finger at him, pulling Harry by the front of his shirt in between his legs, "Really, really, huh? Well, I guess that means we're going then."

Harry's face broke in a toothy, bright eyed grin, "Thank you."

"We can go more often if I get a kiss like that every time," Marcus joked after they pulled apart from a long, tongue heavy kiss.

Harry tried to get out his grip, "You should let me go turn off the stove unless you want to eat burned food."

Marcus released him reluctantly; after a moment of thinking he said, "Maybe if we go early we can go to Hermione's and Ron's and babysit the baby."

Harry served them steaming plates over rice and took them to the table. He waited patiently while Marcus joined him, watching with a smile as Marcus poured the both tall glasses of milk, "That sounds great."

"It does, doesn't it?" Marcus grinned at him, running his thumb gently over the apple of Harry's cheek. He took a bite and smiled, "This is delicious, Harry."

Harry took a large bite and spit it out in a hurry; he had not blown on it and it had burned his tongue. "It's not funny," he glared at a laughing Marcus and took a swing of his glass.

Marcus merely responded by taking a forkful of his own food, cooling it, and placing it carefully in Harry's mouth, "It's a good thing I think you're the hottest thing since the creation of the Sun."

"I resent that jab at my intelligence," Harry muttered.

"You're concentrating on the wrong part, Harry," said Marcus.

Harry smiled, "What part should I be concentrating on, then?"

"The part where I think you're near perfect," Marcus winked at him.

Harry blushed, much too pleased to do anything but look at Marcus through his lashes, "That goes for you too."

Marcus grabbed on to Harry's hand and ran his finger over the light scar there with a grin, "Well, we all know you don't tell lies."

Harry shook his head, "Cocky bastard."

"That's my name," Marcus said, stealing a kiss.

iIiIiI

"This isn't the cimena," Marcus looked at Harry with questioning eyes as they stepped through the brick wall into Diagon Alley.

"No, you're right. It isn't the ci_-ne-_ma," Harry pulled Marcus along the brightly lit street towards a fancy looking establishment.

Marcus shook his head, "J don't understand. Why are we going to The Albion?"

Harry pushed him through the front doors and greeted the hostess, waiting to be shown to their reserved table. He smiled, "Well, you said this was your favorite restaurant."

"It is," Marcus agreed. Harry was holding his hand as they walked to a private table for two near the rear of a large, darkly decorated room. As soon as people recognized Harry, their eyes strayed to them, watching them walk with curiosity. He guessed he could understand now why Harry didn't like to go out to public places. When they were seated across from each other, he asked, "I thought people made dinner uncomfortable?"

"Well, I think I found a way for us not to be disturbed," Harry told him, making Marcus notice for the first time several people hovering nearby. With narrowed eyes, he recognized Fred, Harry's partner from the Ministry. Harry ordered an appetizer and a bottle of wine for them, waiting until the witch was gone to pull a small wrapped gift from the inside of his suit jacket, "Happy birthday, Marcus."

Taken aback, Marcus took the small box with happy surprise. His eyes were very dark as they inspected it, his fingers running carefully over the wrapping until they undid it. He put the wrapping paper aside and popped the lid open, smiling when he saw what was inside, "You got me a watch!"

Harry grinned, relieved to see that Marcus wasn't threatening to throw the useless thing away, "Yeah, it's a Muggle one. It's called a Rolex, and I thought it might look good on you. It suits you."

Marcus took it out and inspected it closely, tinkering with the small dial. Then, he saw the small inscription on the inside of the band. He read, "To Marcus, who deserves nothing less than everything he wants." His eyes sought out Harry's, "Thank you."

Harry laughed when he was pulled in for a surprising kiss and wrapped his fingers in Marcus' hair, "You like it?"

"I love it," Marcus assured him, slipping it to his left wrist beneath the cuff of his black button-up.

Harry had been right; it did suit him. It added to the ensemble, to the man himself as if it was the final detail on an expensive man with expensive tastes. Marcus looked sexy, dark, and, Harry realized, like a boss, a man who led so others would follow. Maybe he was reading too much into his own gift, but, regardless, it made the blood in his body move south, "I'm really glad."

"How did you know it was my birthday?" Marcus asked after their appetizer had been brought to the table and they had ordered.

"I have clever friends," Harry smiled.

Marcus grinned, "What, Hermione?"

Harry shook his head in amusement, "She's not the _only _bright one, but yes, if you must know. She tipped me off, and it's a good thing too since you didn't seem to be too eager to tell me."

"Oh," Marcus avoided his eyes. "I didn't want to make you feel like you had to do anything. Actually, I was going to tell you on Monday, but then you _lied _to me about the cimena, and I didn't want to disappoint you."

Harry laughed, not bothering to correct him, "It was a _white _lie. Besides, how could you think that I wouldn't want to do something for my boyfriend?"

"I like that word on your lips," Marcus said instead, his eyes going a little darker.

Harry blushed, "I like _other _things on my lips as well." Then, he winked teasingly, "Like food. Come on, be a turtle dove and eat up, birthday boy."

Marcus moved forward and pecked his lips, "Ron's a bad influence on you."

Harry smiled against his lips, "He would be happy to hear you say that."

iIiIii

"Shh, shh, shh!"

Marcus looked at Harry with amused eyes, "Are they trying to be quiet?"

"Mom, move _over_."

"Oh, sorry George, dear."

Harry was shaking with silent laughter, but ushered Marcus into Hermione and Ron's living room with a hand at the small of his back. As soon as they had come in, the room erupted in, "SURPRISE!" and a set of fireworks went off, causing mayhem as people shrieked and tried to dodge them. Hermione had the presence of mind to turn on the lights and stood at the back of the room, shielding her daughter from the small explosions caused George and his wand.

Mrs. Weasley came forward and hugged a surprised Marcus around the waist, "Happy birthday, dear!"

"Oh, thank you," Marcus nodded at her, taking into his hand a lumpy present she shoved at him.

"It's a Weasley sweater!" Ron roared at Marcus, plopping his and Hermione's present into Marcus' hands as well, "Happy birthday, mate."

Marcus set aside his enormous green sweater with a large M knitted at the front and continued to open the rest of the presents that were unrelentingly given to him. The Weasleys were all cheery and stared at him with merry eyes until he opened them all, including a bottle of whiskey from Hermione and Ron, a bottle of wine and some condoms from a winking George (much to Mrs. Weasley's outrage), and a large painting from Dean and Ginny which Dean had done himself. Harry couldn't decide if Marcus looked more surprised, overwhelmed, or taken aback by everyone's enthusiasm, but he seemed to be taking everything in stride.

The room was aflutter with activity, and Hermione unceremoniously shoved Rose into Marcus' arms to go cut the cake. After babysitting several times with Harry, she seemed to trust him with her. Marcus, however, looked at Harry for help who grinned and busied himself shoving the box of condoms at George. The evening wore on quite quickly, in fact, and Harry was happy to see that Marcus loosened up as time passed. He actually looked quite comfortable holding Rose in his arms. It occurred to Harry for the first time that for all his physical size and dark facial characteristics, Marcus looked very much like a father. Somehow, that thought made Harry grin. It made him like Marcus even more than he already did, which was ridiculous because he was crazy about the guy.

When they finished the cake and coffee, everyone began trickle home until Harry and Marcus finally said goodbye to Hermione and Ron, thanking them for everything. Marcus had handed the baby back to its mother with great care and had stepped into the floo laden with his presents. When they stepped into Harry's apartment, they plopped on the couch and Harry asked, "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah," Marcus answered. "It was- surprising."

"It means the Weasleys have taken you under their wing, I'm afraid," Harry informed him, putting his hands on the inside of Marcus' suit and tugging the coat away. He undid the tie with sure fingers, Marcus' eyes focused on Harry's face as he did so, and finally unbuttoned the shirt and pulled it off. Marcus looked delicious like that, in a pair of fitted lacks and nothing else. Alas, Harry decided to put an end to it and straddled Marcus' hips, wrestling Mrs. Weasley's sweater on unexpectedly.

Marcus came out at the other end looking very surprised, "Wow, it actually fits."

Harry laughed, amused at the way Marcus' hair was standing on end messily, and nodded, "Mrs. Weasley is a genius. It's comfy, isn't it?"

"Yes," Marcus admitted, "but I was quite looking forward to where you were going before you attacked me with it."

"Oh," Harry said, sneaking his hand up beneath the sweater onto Marcus' warm chest. He trailed his fingers down Marcus' belly and settled them on the large bulge in his pants, "You mean _here_?"

"No," Marcus shook his head and put Harry's hand inside his pants, "I meant _there._"

"Hmm," Harry raised his eyebrows playfully. "Then I should probably do something about those expectations."

He tugged his hand out from inside Marcus' trousers to rid him of his Weasley sweater, going further down until his fingers popped the button and freed Marcus' of his pants. Harry said a quick thank you in his mind to the powers that be that Marcus didn't wear boxers and wrapped his tongue around the tip of Marcus' cock. He traced his tongue down the shaft and grinned when he heard Marcus give a strangled gasp, nipping down playfully with his teeth. Marcus wrapped his fingers in Harry's hair and seemed to be trying to pull him up, but Harry kept to his steady assault, reveling in the pink flush grazing Marcus' cheeks. He looked up through his lashes at him and saw that Marcus was biting his bottom lip, leaving it red and swollen in such a way that it nearly made Harry kiss him. However, he resisted the temptation and pushed down with his lips, trying to get as much of Marcus in his mouth as he could. He was too big to fit in all of the way, but he made sure to do his best with what he was given. Marcus gave him a warning moan and tried to pull him up once again, but Harry ignored him and bobbed his head faster until he felt hot sperm hit the back of his throat. He swallowed, feeling a bit slip to the corner of his lips, and grinned when he had Marcus all cleaned up. Harry slinked his body upwards and settled himself on top of Marcus' lap.

Marcus ran his thumb over Harry's bottom lip and wiped it clean before moving in and giving him a long kiss that seemed to go on and on. Harry felt Marcus' hands pushing him up gently and stood up, followed by the taller man, "I think we should take this to the bedroom, Harry."

They kissed their way into Harry's room, Marcus tugging at his clothes on the way there, allowing them to drop in a trail that made obvious what they were intent on doing. Harry dropped on to the bed and opened his legs to allow Marcus to sink between them. He was prepared with great care before Marcus set his hand on Harry's right thigh and pushed forward. Throwing his head back in time with a moan, Harry wondered if he would ever tire of this, of the wonderful sensations that coursed through his body making his toes curl, of having Marcus look at him that way, so powerfully and like he could see something in Harry that he more than liked, that he _owned_. It was an extraordinary aphrodisiac to be handled with such precision, attention, and obvious care. Because in truth, Harry did not doubt for a second how the large man above him felt about him; it was the same way, Harry imagined, that he felt about Marcus. A breathy gasp was torn from his throat when Marcus rammed into him at a particular angle that made him close his eyes with pleasure, and he only opened them when Marcus kissed him gently, drawing his attention back onto his form. He liked having Harry's attention and did his best to shut off any sensible train of thought. Harry was more than happy to let him know through a message of moans that he was much more than just successful. For those minutes, as they rocked together, gasping and breathing heavily as they stared into each other's eyes, Marcus was _everything_.

iIiIiI

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked with concern two weeks later when he and Marcus were stopping by to say hello on a Wednesday afternoon.

Hermione looked distraught standing on top of a scale, "I gained half a kilo!"

Ron, beside her looked near tears, "_No_!"

Marcus shook his head and took the baby from Ron's arms, watching from a distance as Harry and Ron crowded around Hermione and looked down. The numbers were changing even now and as they held their breath in anticipation, new ones blinked up at them. Hermione cocked her head to the side in surprise, "Oh." She smiled a watery smile and beamed up at Marcus, "No, I _lost _half a kilo!"

Harry hugged Hermione and then Ron, who was looking weak with happiness, or perhaps starvation, "Good job, Mione."

"I think you look great," Marcus told her, garnering a look of wide eyed happiness that eventually made him look away, uncomfortable with the attention. Instead, he focused on cradling Rose closer, playing with her little fist while she gurgled happily.

"I like this one," Hermione mock whispered to Harry.

Harry grinned and looked from Hermione to Marcus, "I like him too."

Just then, Ron's rumbling stomach broke the nice moment of silence, and he looked apologetically around him, "I'm sorry; I'm just _so _hungry."

Hermione looked very guilty and looked hopefully at Harry, "Have you two had dinner yet?"

Harry hesitated but then said, "No," carefully.

Hermione swatted his arm, "I don't mean to keep you here and feed you lettuce. I'm afraid Marcus would pass out; why don't you boys go out for some dinner some place nice? I will stay here with Rose and we will celebrate mommy's accomplishments."

Harry looked at Marcus, and he nodded. Ron wasted no time and gathered his cloak, pulling Harry along as if afraid Hermione would change her mind. Marcus handed Rose carefully to Hermione and followed the two friends out the door with a small shake of his head. Despite his early hesitancy, Marcus liked Ron and Hermione; he especially like the way Harry would go bright eyed around his friends, the way he acted as if everything was right in the world when all four of them, and the baby, were together. It was a look that was becoming more and more similar to the one Harry wore when they were alone. Just then, Ron was joking about how he was at the point of fainting from hunger, or at least Marcus thought he was joking. The pitiful look on his face made it hard to really tell.

"So, where are we going?" Ron asked expectantly.

Marcus gave him a sympathetic smile, "Anywhere you want to go. Harry and I go out all the time."

"Yeah," Harry smiled at Marcus thoughtfully and then looked at Ron. "You choose, mate."

Ron looked momentarily overwhelmed. "Steak," he said at last, "anywhere with steak."

Marcus thought for a moment, wrapping his arm around Harry's waist, and finally said, "There's this really great Grille in Diagon Alley if you want to go."

"That sounds fantastic," Ron said earnestly. "Let's go."

Without wasting time, he turned on his heel and Apparated, leaving them alone. Harry turned in Marcus' arms and smiled widely, hooking his wrists around the taller man's neck. He stood on tippy toes and kissed him gently, hiding his head in the crook of Marcus' neck as Flint side Apparated them away. When they walked into the restaurant, Ron was in the process of getting them a table. The hostess greeted them warmly and showed them to an open spot, setting down the menus in front of them. Picking his up, Harry noticed that none of the entrees had prices next to them, which he took to mean that if someone needed to ask the price, then they probably couldn't afford to eat there. Beside him, Marcus looked completely unconcerned and set about ordering them three different appetizers that they could munch on while their stakes were cooked. In between large bites of food that had Marcus worrying that the redhead was going to choke, Ron kept him busy with conversation about how his teams were doing. He looked at Harry from time to time in concern for his friend's safety, but Harry knew better and patted his arm reassuringly.

"I heard China is doing smashing," Ron said, leaning back so the waitress could set his steaming plate in front of his eyes. Harry actually thought Ron went glossy eyed for a moment.

"Yes," Marcus said. "One of my better investments, if I'm honest. They are garnering a lot of attention, though I don't know how much longer that's going to last."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, noting the way the area around Marcus' eyes had tensed.

Marcus took a sip of his wine and thanked the waitress for his own meal before answering, "Xinwei, the Keeper on the China team, is in talks with Japan to switch. The Japanese are offering him an obscene amount of money as well as a campaign with him as the face of the Japanese team in the upcoming World Cup. They're ready to draw up naturalization documents the moment he makes up his mind."

"Is he instrumental to China's success?" Harry asked with concern for Marcus' franchise.

Marcus shook his head, "It's not really that. China is solid, because they play well as a _team_. If Xinwei goes to Japan, he can kiss the chance at the Cup goodbye. He might highlight for them, but China will remain the stronger team. He is making the mistake of thinking that he's the only Keeper in Asia who can play as well as he does."

"But I have seen him fly," Ron said around some potatoes. "He's really good."

"Yes," Marcus agreed. "He is very good, great even. It doesn't change the fact that there aren't others who are nearly as good or better. The one thing that Quidditch players tend to forget is how lucky they are. You don't just need skill to make it on to the field. You need to be _noticed_, which is ten times harder than actually playing the game itself."

"Alright," Harry said calmly, wiping his hands on the napkin on his lap, "but if China is set to be successful without him, why are you worried?"

"Because Xinwei leaving is going to garner a lot of bad publicity, and you can bet that it's going to cut my stocks. Companies don't want to be involved in bad publicity, Harry. It's sticky, and it's bad for business."

"Can't you do anything to stop him?" Ron asked.

Marcus nodded, "I'm doing my best. Xinwei might be good at Quidditch, but there is no one better behind the scenes than me. It sounds arrogant, but it's deserved. I have worked my ass off to make sure that it's that way. The sad thing is that this kid might get attention now, for a little bit, but a few years down the road he is going to be completely forgotten. People remember Chasers and Seekers; it's harsh, but it's the truth. A great Keeper is recognized, but he is only acknowledged if he's part of a group of great players. I'm placing a lot of trust on my handler in Asia to make sure he stays."

Harry put a hand on Marcus' arm, "Marcus, why don't _you _go there and talk to him. I mean, from what you just told us, you convinced _me _that it would be a good idea to remain in your camp."

"You think so?" Marcus asked, his eyes serious and concentrated on Harry's.

"Yes," Harry nodded, inclining his head for a kiss.

From the opposite side of the table, Ron was chewing loudly, "Aww, you two are so cute."

Pulling back, Harry grinned at his friend and shook his head, "Ron, I think the lack of food has done something to your brain. You just called us _cute._"

Ron looked concerned and nodded, "Best keep eating, then."

iIiIiI

Time seemed to fly after that, largely due to how busy Harry and Marcus were kept at their separate jobs. Marcus had indeed heeded Harry's advice and gone to China to speak with Xinwei and had been working hard with his lawyers to draw up a new contract that finally seemed suitable to the lad. Over at the Ministry, Harry had been handed job after job. Bottlehagen seemed as if he was tugging his mustache out in frustration at the mounting number of illegal magical dealings that seemed to occur all at once. No matter, they managed to make time to spend together, even if it was just at night some days. Marcus was practically living in Harry's flat, and his tailored clothes could be seen littering Harry's room before either of them had time to put them away properly. On a lunch break, Harry had actually gone home and carefully hanged Marcus' suits in his closet, marveling slightly at the way they looked next to his odd assortment of t-shirts and jeans. His own suits were pushed to the very back, out of reach, as it was very rare that he ever put them on.

Marcus had found him like that, sitting cross legged on the floor staring up at their clothes and had become smitten with the happy look on Harry's face. He had taken Harry to bed, despite the Auror's protests about needing to be back at work soon, and laughed throatily when those protests turned into moans and Harry squirmed deliciously beneath him. As it turned out, Harry had managed to make it back into the office only ten minutes late, though his hair was sticking up more than usual and his face was flushed. Various of his coworkers gave him knowing looks that he reacted to with a glare until finally everyone was too involved in their own work to worry about Harry's sex life. Lucas was thankfully in the field that day, and Harry was spared the awkward moment that would have no doubt happened if the blond had been there.

On Halloween, Harry was allowed to go home and met up with Marcus in his apartment. Mrs. Weasley had invited them to the Burrow, and Marcus was very nervous about going there for the first time. Harry climbed through the fireplace and walked over the couch where Marcus was seated waiting for him, "Hello there, gorgeous."

"Hello," Marcus relaxed into their soft kiss. "Good day?"

"Relatively," Harry answered, shrugging his outer robe off. "You know, if I had known how much paperwork is involved in being an Auror I might have considered becoming something different. I will admit, though, that I am glad I'm not on the field tonight. We get all kinds of weirdos on Halloween. I bet you a lot of our kind will be out tonight, recklessly, no doubt scaring the poor Muggles half to death."

Marcus smiled, "Well it's a good thing you don't have to worry about them tonight."

"I missed you," Harry breathed into Marcus' neck as he joined him on the couch, settling into Marcus' side.

Marcus pulled him close and sighed, "I missed you too. I'm never as happy as when I'm with you."

Harry looked at him, touched, and kissed him, "I'm never as happy as when I'm with you, either."

"Well, that's good," Marcus joked. "I thought Rose and I were heading for a rumble there for a minute."

"Oh, I don't think that's a good idea," Harry said, shaking his head. "She would kick your ass."

Marcus' eyes were playful, but he shook his head and said, "I wish I could say that was lie."

Harry grinned and patted Marcus' thigh, pushing up so he could stand. He extended his hand to help Marcus get up, "Come on; we better get ready. Mrs. Weasley will kill us if we're late."

Marcus followed Harry into the room but kept them much longer there than was necessary, kissing his way down Harry's back. Harry had turned into him, relaxing into the touch, and seemed ready to see where it was leading when Marcus had to step away as much as he wanted to continue. He looked torn as he said, "The party, Harry."

Harry was glossy eyed but eventually snapped out of it and mock glared at him, "Doing that should be punishable by law."

"Doing what?" Marcus asked, changing his suit for a more comfortable pair of black slacks and a blue, slightly more loose button up shirt.

"Being you," Harry told him, slipping on a long sleeved shirt over his jeans. "You make getting dressed a much tougher ordeal than it should be."

"I think it's because I like you naked so much better," Marcus told him seriously, grinning when Harry blushed despite everything they had done in the past few months. When he stepped forward for a kiss, Marcus felt oddly pleased with himself for having that power over the Auror. That blush did strange to him, like settling a smile that didn't seem to want to go away on his face and make undignified butterflies erupt in his stomach. Harry's teasing hand trailing up his yet still untucked shirt did nothing to help.

iIiIiI

"Having fun?" Hermione asked Marcus later that night, joining him in a corner of the room where he was standing watching the others.

"Yes," Marcus answered, holding out his arms for the baby. "How have you been?"

Hermione smiled, "A little tired, but what's new? I have finally lost all the weight!"

"I bet Ron was thrilled," Marcus said, patting the baby's back as he held her against his shoulder.

"I thought he was going to cry when I told him," Hermione giggled. "Do you mind watching the baby for a moment? I just want to go get myself something to drink from the kitchen. I would be careful if I were you; George looks awfully suspicious."

Marcus took ample time in surveying the cramped room in the Weasleys' home, which was now garishly decorated with pumpkin colored streamers and jack-o-lanterns that emitted horrible noises when anyone bent down to inspect them. At one point, caught unaware, Ron screamed out in fright and was half way on the couch before he realized that though it could talk, the smirking, horrible face did not have feet with which to chase him. George seemed to find it all ridiculously funny and trapezed up and down the room making everyone's night more enjoyable by placing all manner of fake animals on various parts of their bodies. Poor Ron was taken a fool, again, and nearly did his own hand in when George placed a fake spider on while he was sitting on the couch. Even Hermione, who offered her husband a sympathetic kiss, seemed to find it funny and could be seen standing looking at the corner in an effort to control her silent mirth.

Victorie, Bill and Fleur's daughter, was having a fantastic time, teaming up with her uncle to bring down mayhem upon the Burrow. She had obviously inherited the Weasley spirit, and George looked at her for the longest of times with an appraising look after she managed to sneak a caramelized candy cockroach into Mrs. Weasley's drink while giving her a hug. For his part, Harry was having a great time, laughing loudly with Shacklebolt as they discussed a case from work that Shacklebolt had been around for when he was not too busy trying to run the country. The only person missing so far was Mr. Weasley who had been called off to work unexpectedly after a rubbish bin started serenading a scared little Muggle woman on her way home. It had followed her all the way to her doorstep and refused to leave, proclaiming at the top of its lungs that it loved her.

Well into the evening, however, he returned, looking windswept but happy. He relegated the all with the tale and smiled in satisfaction as he finished it by letting them know that everything had been resolved, memory spells put into place, and lovesick rubbish bin turned to normal once again. He stooped to kiss his wife on the cheek, taking a drink from her cup without realizing that the candy roach was still floating about, and made his way over to the front of the fireplace where Marcus was standing watching the room. Mr. Weasley tapped Marcus' arm jovially and looked at his granddaughter with a wide grin, "There she is!"

Marcus handed the baby over and asked, "Will it be a lot of paperwork, the bin?"

"Oh," Mr. Weasley kissed Rose and handed her back gently, "hopefully not _too_ much. You know, Marcus, I have to say, fatherhood sits well on you."

At the opposite end of the room, clutching his cup tightly to his body and watching George warily out of the corner of his eye, Harry smiled. He couldn't agree more. Marcus looked near damn perfect with a baby in his arms; it was strange but appealing. When he made his way to Marcus and kissed him, Harry teased the taller man about being overly paranoid about the drinks, before taking a large gulp of his own ant turning promptly into a giant bird. As his feathers molted, Harry could hear George and Victorie laughing loudly, giving each other enthusiastic high-fives.

iIiIiI

Here it is! Hope you like it! Sorry if there are any errors; there are bound to be some, but I didn't have time to fix them if I wanted to get this one out. Sorry, guys! REVIEW!

Aly


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